Dark Reflections
by Lahara
Summary: Is just fighting crime enough? Does it make us whole? Merla Reinard spends her life working as a crime scene investigator at MCU and little else. Now with Batman in the picture, she has to deal with a dark reflection of herself. Rating may go up
1. Chapter 1

**Dark Reflections**

by Lahara

**A/N:** _Hello fanfiction land! I know I have other stories that I should be working on, but after seeing the Dark Knight... wow. I got obsessed. I bought the a script book, the sound track... I started reading various fanfiction here and got bit by the bug. The plot bunnies wouldn't leave me alone! So I started writing. And writing. And writing. I would get ideas for scenes I know I wouldn't be working on for a long while. And editing... oh the editing! Ugh. Worst of all I couldn't think of a title for my story for the longest time._

_And now, here's my story. I wanted to write a long story that has elements of romance... but the romance part is going to take time. I feel that true love takes time, and sometimes we don't even realize it. The title is a reference to the fact that we should be happy with what we have, that everything in our life is something to cherish and be thankful for. However, after traumatic events we think we have enough and something mundane will fulfill the emptiness that loss leaves, or maybe avoid personal connections to avoid further pain from loss. I see Bruce Wayne believing that him being Batman will be enough to make him whole. It satisfies his needs for justice, but still leaves him incomplete._

_The story starts between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. I have Gotham Knight in mind too, as you might notice by a certain name that pops up. Not sure yet how much of Gotham Knight is going to get worked into this story, but the events of The Dark Knight will also take place as well. Eventually..._

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or anything relating to Batman. I'm just borrowing him and Gotham for a bit. I promise to take care of it, honest!

* * *

Merla Reinard awoke to a loud buzzing sound somewhere around the vicinity of her head. She opened one angry eye and peered from her pillow towards the offender. Her cell phone sat on her nightstand, lighting up in the dark room each time it trembled for attention. A slightly numb arm flopped across the bed and reached for the tiny, vibrating machine. It was her day off, damn it, and this had better be worth waking her.

On the third attempt to grasp the squirming phone she succeeded and tilted the front to see who was trying to reach her. She squinted to see without her glasses and could make out the name GORDON in bright letters. Merla let out a slow sigh and pulled her cell phone closer. If it was him calling her on the day he damn well knew she had off, it had to be important. She flipped the phone open, pressing it to her ear and covering her face with her free hand.

"Boss, I hope this is good."

"Reinard?" said an uncertain voice on the other line.

"Mmm."

"I'm sorry, I know it's your day off and all…"

"I know you know boss. I know that you wouldn't call unless it was important. I know the city gives us as little overtime as it is." She let out a slow breath and pushed errant hair that had uncomfortably bunched too close to her face during her rest. "That's why you're the only one I'd answer the phone for today."

Gordon cut her off. "Really? Guess that makes me one lucky Lieutenant."

Merla ignored him and continued. "And I know that you would only call if I was really needed for something important. So, like I said: I hope this is good."

A sigh escaped from the Lieutenant. "It's not good. Not at all. Another bank robbery. Looks like the Joker. You handled the other cases, and I don't want anyone else touching the scene before you."

"I guess that happens when you're one of the few crime lab criminalists just for MCU." She stifled a long yawn which caused her to cough a bit towards the end. "Alright. I'll get dressed and call you back for the location."

"Thanks Reinard." Gordon's voice sounded like a flood of relief hit him. "You're a saint."

Merla muttered and stretched her back in a cat-like fashion on the bed. "Yeah yeah. I know Boss. You love me. Talk to you soon."

She closed her phone and fought the urge to fling it across the room. It wasn't Gordon she was mad at, far from it. They were both hardworking individuals that gave their all in protecting Gotham. They both hated to see people hurt or taken advantage of, which basically was the epitome of the mob. Still, Gordon had a family and home life while Merla spent most of her days off sleeping in or reading. He had something she longed for, and wished him all the best. No, the Lieutenant didn't have her ire.

'_That damn Joker guy. Did he have to pull a bank job on __**my**__ day off??' _she thought bitterly.

Merla moved quickly though her apartment in the dim light. The only illumination came from the faint glow through her bedroom window's blinds, a weak reflection from the street lights below. She followed the same routine everyday for so long she could follow the path blindfolded. Her life was simple, and it was enough for her. Scrubbing herself clean in the shower as quickly as possible, she managed to speedily wash her hair that dangled limply below her shoulders. Drying off and tossing the towel over the shower pole, she returned to her bedroom and opened the door to her closet. Ignoring the unpacked cardboard boxes she had shunned into its corner on the floor she pulled out a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved top to wear today. Merla slipped into an uninspiring pair of undergarments before putting on her attire for work. She didn't bother drying her hair and just brushed the knots out before securing it in a tight ponytail. Pulling her glasses off the nightstand and planting them onto her face, she examined herself in the mirror which hung over her dresser.

Brown eyes peered out from behind black rimmed glasses, and her pale skin looked ghostly in the dim room. The lack of light in the room and damp strands allowed her hair to take on a pitch black color. Makeup was pointless in her line of work. She might have to label and collect bullet casings on the street one day or crawling under a house to locate a hidden corpse the next. Not that it mattered; she really didn't know anything about makeup application save the basics. Merla adjusted her glasses and took notice of the small frown already forming on her lips. She didn't want to look at her reflection much longer since her true identity sat patiently on her dresser.

GCPD Crime Lab – MCUstood out in bold letters on her ID tag that rested on polish wood, waiting for her. She picked it up for closer scrutiny; the reflective stamp in the background partially overlapped a picture that was nearly identical to what she just saw in the mirror. Almost everything was on that tiny little card spoke more about Merla than most people would ever know. She slipped the card into a clear carrying pouch made for such things and wore it around her neck to dangle on display. She also picked up her hip holster and gun.

When she was younger, she hated guns. To this day she still hated them. It was mandatory of the department for anyone in the field to both be proficient and carry one at all times. Gotham was dangerous, and the police department wanted even their forensic scientists armed. Merla drew the weapon from its holster and examined it. Safety on, she removed the clip and made sure the chamber was empty. Turning off the safety she pulled the trigger and got a resounding click in response. Strange how even unloaded that sound still bothered her.

Flicking the safety back on and reloading her gun, she slipped the holster into place on her belt. She then threaded it through her jeans and bent to grab a pair of heavy black boots. They were old and worn, but the leather wasn't cracked or damaged despite the obvious age. After she laced them closed, she then squirmed her toes inside. Not too roomy and not too tight. Merla let a faint smile of familiar comfort creep onto her face.

It didn't last long. She stuffed her wallet deep into her jeans, strapped on her watch, grabbed her keys off the bureau and at last picked up her cell phone again. Not releasing it from her grasp she slipped on her brown jacket; then flipped it open to redial in one hand as she unlocked her apartment door. Food and a warm drink to wake her up would have to wait; right now she had a job to do.

* * *

Despite downtown traffic and her only two years experience with Gotham streets, Merla made it to the crime scene rather quickly. Of course, Gordon's directions were quite helpful. None the less she spotted the familiar flicker of red and blue cutting through the dim night and bouncing off the fronts of buildings. She parked as close to the scene as she could. Yellow tape formed the standard police perimeter around the stone building with the press, well, pressing the limits of that barrier. They barked for quotes and tidbits of information like starved hounds.

A sound of distaste crept up from her throat as she slammed her car door shut. The media was by far something Merla enjoyed. Some reporters seemed just as vicious as criminals, wanting knowledge of any grievous sin committed to boost their ratings and get attention. Yes, the people had a right to know what happened in the world. But like many things that had good intentions it got swallowed into a pit of corruption and bled out more darkness in the world. It was enough to make her stomach churn. She moved to the back of her car and proceeded to extract her lab kit from the trunk. A pair of latex gloves were pulled out from the silver case and snapped onto her petite hands. She was set for work.

When she approached the tape a patrolman moved to stop her, but she held up her ID silently. Reporters spewed forth questions to Merla in hopes of gaining a hint as to what was going on, and she pointedly ignored them. She could give a damn about how much they needed something to post on the 11 o'clock news. Working the scene to catch criminals was more important than spoon feeding fear to Gotham city.

Inside was a mess. A few dead bodies were sprawled out on the floor in awkward poses as the coroner did their preliminary exams, a table that had pamphlets on it was overturned with papers littering nearby, a few yellow numbered cards had been set up around bullet casings by her fellow criminalists, glass at the teller's station had been shot at making spider web fractures, and even a section of wall had the plaster blown off it revealing wood frame underneath. Even around all this chaos, Merla found an eerie peace in her element.

"Reinard!" Standing near a couple of uniformed officers and plain clothed detectives she recognized Lieutenant Gordon. Merla felt her heart warm up as he waved her over.

Gordon was all she could ask for in a leader, a friend, and a man. He worked hard, was compassionate, and always did the right thing. Over the half a year he recognized her skills as well as her determination. A bond started to form between them as they quickly found trust in one another. Even though they really weren't in the field together as partners she still helped Gordon as much as she could would. Every difficult case at MCUMerla could get her hands on she went over meticulously to insure criminals be put to justice and not slip through the system. Their relationship was friendly, comfortable, even with a hint of mentor and apprentice sometimes. Maybe someone would look at it and see more, even with her affectionate nickname she gave him: Boss.

"You don't know how much this means." Some of the creases around the older man's eyes lifted as she got closer. "Damn glad you're here."

Merla smile some might have mistaken for smug. "You're good for it. And I know you wouldn't call without a good reason, Boss."

Gordon's eyes lightened behind his glasses. "Well you're one of the best crime scene investigators in MCU. Ramirez and Allen know the other bank jobs backwards and forwards, but I need someone with a more scientific background that knows the cases. How's your memory on off days?"

She sniffed a bit and shifted her weight while standing in place. "Fairly decent. Some tea would help spark the neurons," she tapped her temple to empathize, "but I'm sure I've got you covered."

"All I needed to hear" he nodded in satisfaction.

Gordon turned to the uniformed officers, speaking briefly while Merla started to scan the scene with her eyes. Ramirez watched her skeptically. Some detectives just hate having their territory encroached on, even if they were on the same team. Merla never understood the discomfort between criminalistsand officers. They worked with people, and she worked more with inanimate objects (and sometimes inanimate people too.) In the end it was a collaborative effort, not competition.

She stepped around one of the bodies slowly, noticing the rubber clown masks. Gordon followed not too far behind. "Same as the last ones? Suspects turning on each other and one leaves with the money?"

"We can't confirm until the bullets are extracted and ballistics run, but it looks that way." Gordon commented as Ramirez and Allen shadowed their boss.

Merla clicked her tongue a bit. "Shot in the back. Doubt he would keep his back to an armed security guard." She lowered herself near to one of the assistant coroners working on the body, not allowing her knees to touch the floor. "Can I remove his mask?"

The assistant nodded and motioned with his pen towards his paperwork. "Everything's been documented and I just released the body. He's yours."

She nodded back and slowly pulled the rubber mask off the body. He was at a funny angle, having fallen forwards but probably twisted a bit in pain and landed on his side. She tilted his head slowly and brushed his hair back to get a better look at his face. He was young, and looked almost peaceful even with his eyes open. It must have been an unexpected and a quick death.

Ramirez breathed in a bit sharply. "Damn. He's a fucking kid."

"Probably has priors, even if it's a juvie record. His prints will give us something." Merla spoke gently and brushed her fingers over his eyes to shut them. "Too young to be a hardened criminal, too stupid to walk away from a lucrative offer."

Without a breath of emotion she stood, removed her gloves, deposited them into a plastic bag in her pocket, and pulled on a fresh pair. Merla didn't want to contaminate anywhere the man wasn't with his hair or skin. Whatever remnant of himself he would leave behind in life he was now incapable of doing, and she wouldn't allow the scene to be contaminated.

She glanced up to Gordon after she replaced her gloves. "I'd like to see the vault."

It was more of the same, really. Another body with a pool of blood congealing underneath it sat slumped against the wall. The vault door was opened, safety deposit boxes untouched and most of the loose cash gone. A few bundles of wrapped bills that didn't make it to the criminals had fallen to the ground. Gordon followed Merla in closely as she meticulously examined the area. Ramirez stayed close to the vault doorway.

"Looks like it was quick." The criminalist looked over the area carefully. "They only wanted the cash and didn't even try to jimmy one safety deposit box. Probably on a timed schedule. Even left what they didn't have time to waste for."

"It was planned. Carefully." A new, gravely voice bit out from behind her, causing Merla to spin around.

There was little that surprised Merla at this point in her life. A sudden, unrecognized voice behind her would normally cause the hair on the nape of her neck to creep up. She would then act accordingly, depending on the situation. This voice was beyond anything her ears heard before. It was low, purposely dark and heavy, and spoke of a dangerous man. Her hand reached for her hip holster reflexively as she turned to come face to face with Gotham's greatest and infamous.

"It's okay, it's okay." Gordon touched her shoulder soothingly to calm her down.

Merla let out a slow breath and let her hand drop. The Batman stood exuding an unnatural calmness, not showing any response to the potential threat she just made. He was a black pit of nothingness, and his eyes were full of a calculated calm. Just as she always tried to exude when she worked. Just what she had momentarily taken from her. It only served to anger the young woman further.

The Lieutenant looked between the detective, the criminalist, and the vigilante. He settled his gaze back on the first and spoke softly. "Ramirez, could you…"

She nodded with understanding and backed out of the vault, undoubtedly to make sure no one knew the Batman was interested in the robbery. Merla and the Batman just stared, or perhaps glared, at one another each sizing the other up. The silence hung heavy in the air, two stone sentinels daring the other to move.

The dark figure broke eye contact and spoke to Gordon. "You trust her?"

Merla's nostrils flared at that and her fist tightened. She doubted he was talking about Ramirez. How dare he presume she was untrustworthy! Certainly she held no ill will for him when he brought criminals to justice, but he was in no place to presume he knew her.

Her Boss spoke up. "Reinard's a crime scene investigator. I'd trust her with my life."

A bit of pride swelled in her chest hearing Gordon say that, but she pushed it down quickly with a flood of uncertainty and skepticism. Merla risked a glance to her right. "Are you sure this is alright, Boss?"

There was a bit of calmness in his expression as he nodded. Words didn't need to be spoken; Gordon was a good man and a good mentor. The bond they had started to form was still new but solid. But she would never drop her guard, and just turned to watch the masked figure once more.

Gordon spoke again, this time to the Batman. "Another bank hit. Same MO. Same man."

To say Batman walked would be incorrect. He flowed with unnatural grace as he moved further into the vault and extracted a device from his waist. Merla stood fixated to the spot and watched him, partly fascinated and partly weary. A man that radiated so much intimidation he was difficult to keep your eyes off of. He wanted justice in Gotham, just like Gordon, she, and every other uncorrupt member of the department. Gordon just didn't come off as being quite so damned dangerous, however.

The Batman lifted a discarded wrapped bundle of cash and pressed the device to it. Merla relaxed her hands that had reflexively bunched into fists and inched closer in silence. Her eyes flickered between him and what he held. "Marked. A mob bank."

Gordon brushed his coat back from his sides and slid his hands into his pocket. "Can't figure why he'd just go after mob money. Makes him a target for them as well the police. That, and now it's getting difficult to track what banks the mob runs if he takes it all."

Something clicks in Merla's brain. The irradiated bills she had known about, how dispersing the tainted dollars towards the lower part of the mob pyramid structure would make its way to the top. It was brilliant, very brilliant, but costly. Gordon had been elusive as to where he got the idea from and the backing to pull it off, but now everything was clear.

"That was your idea?" Merla blurted out.

The Batman just glanced to her momentarily without making any bodily motions. Gordon raised his eyebrows.

She shifted a bit in place, uncomfortable as to vocalizing her thoughts so blatantly and the following silence. Merla was rarely outspoken anymore. "It's just… very clever," she followed up with in a softer tone.

Gordon spoke up to break the silence. "Everything's conjecture at this point, at least until we run more tests. Then we'll have something more solid. We're focusing our efforts more on tracing the money directly to the mob, but these heists might be involved."

"Focus on the mob. Bigger threat to remove." Batman rasped out as he tossed back the stack of bills to the ground.

"If there is a link, it will help. I'll have a file put together for you. Merla," the Lieutenant turned to her causing the young woman to straighten out her back and face him. "You put together the evidence from all the scenes, including this one. Two copies. Try to keep the second one under wraps."

Merla nodded and turned back to the man in black. "You can pick it up-" but he was gone already. She looked around confused. He didn't even make a sound when he left. Merla furrowed her brow and turned back to Gordon.

He shrugged his shoulders listlessly. "He… does that."

Her arms crossed reflexively over her chest, a habit when she was frustrated. "Sure you want him in on this, Boss?"

"I trust he's after what we're after." Was all he calmly said.

Raising her eyebrows, she doubted he'd divulge unless she prodded him. So she did. "Which is?"

"Justice."

* * *

Even with the rest of the crime scene investigators who were clocked for today, it took nearly seven hours to finish processing the scene. Merla and her co-workers went over the vault carefully, searching for the most miniscule bit of trace or DNA they could work with. The trade mark Joker playing card he left behind was probably clean, but bagged and labeled anyway as procedure dictated. Thankfully they found a few hairs with the follicle still attached, but the likelihood of it being an employee and not the missing bank robber was slim. Still, it was something. Inside the vault there were no bodily fluids to collect either, but they swept each corner carefully. DNA was taken from the employees and witnesses, and back at MCU they had quickly compiled a report to compare with the other robberies.

As far as she could tell it was the same person leading the thefts. Everyone else was basically small time criminals with a long history of minor charges, or only a few major ones with minimal jail time. Some were young and spent a great deal of time in the system. Others spent time in jail together at one point or another. A few had traces back to the mob, but they were weak links at best and from years past. Whoever picked them was careful not to leave tracks behind. And it annoyed her to no end.

Tapping the end of her pen to her chin, Merla wrote in a few notes to her report. The summery was really the most important since everything else basically was "this gun shot this round, this suspect's fingerprint on this gun" etc, etc. Certainly it looked boring, but it was taking pieces of a puzzle and putting it together. This puzzle, however, had far too many missing pieces.

Signing off her report and tossing down the pen, Merla sighed and felt terribly unsatisfied. Some of the guns were used in other crimes but had no links. Nearly everyone's DNA was accounted for, and all were witnesses or dead. The only leads she had left was one hair with an unknown donor and a man whose gun linked back to the robbery.

Several years back a man by the name of Roland Edelstein had held up a liquor store at gunpoint. A few rounds were fired into the walls for intimidation but the gun was never recovered. Roland was arrested and charged with enough evidence so the weapon wasn't required. A missing gun was still not a good thing, and Roland wasn't one of the dead bank robbers. His current address was unknown, but enough digging might locate him. Merla doubted someone as small time as Roland would upscale to planning bank robberies, but the trail of the missing gun might lead somewhere.

A glance towards the clock told her it was getting close to 3 am. She was exhausted. The small meal she had consumed hours earlier had burned up in her body for fuel ages ago. The Lieutenant was probably still awake, knowing him. Something like this he wouldn't be able to let go. Closing the report and its duplicate, she took one in hand and slid the other inside her brown jacket. Walking through MCUwith an illegal police report copy didn't make her feel terribly good. She was breaking the law to preserve the law; though she doubted such a minor crime was the least of her department's concerns. They didn't even really care about catching Batman and just put up the front that he was to be apprehended. Still, if it resulted in guilty criminals going to jail it made Merla's conscious less heavy.

The door to Lieutenant Gordon's office opened easily, and Merla found him behind his desk on the phone. The wooden desk was covered in files, his name plate shining proudly and declaring his name and rank, and a few pictures of his family sat in clear view and away from the mess. Gordon glanced up and motioned to Merla as she quietly shut the door.

"Yes sir, I know that Commissioner. We're working on it." She sat down in one of the chairs across from him. "Nothing yet but I'll inform you when we have a solid lead." Gordon rolled his eyes behind his glasses and leaned back further in his chair. "Yes sir. Goodbye." He tried not to slam down the phone in frustration and sat upright.

"Commissioner's impatient, I gather." Merla said conversationally while holding out her report to him. "Surprised he's up late like us little people."

"He won't get off my ass." Gordon took the folder and flipped it open with a sigh. "Four banks. Four damn banks. We can't rush results and are already working to the bone on this one." He glanced up to Merla over his glasses. "Please tell me you found something."

A slow breath escaped her nose before she spoke up. "Not much. Unidentified DNA and a long lost handgun. Along with a lost potential previous owner. If we dig enough we might find something to locate him and find out where his gun went. Past that, little connections besides the obvious with the robberies." She pushed her glasses up her nose a bit. "I think a few of our dead suspects might have worked for the mob and bailed out at some point. Might be motive."

"You never leave the mob." He glanced up to her. "Or they never leave you is more precise."

"All the more reason. They get mad at the mob for whatever reason, want to hit them back and get away with it. Piss them off." Merla rubbed the back of her neck that was starting to form a crick. "I guess they think if they can get away with that amount of money they can go into hiding afterwards. But that only goes for the dead suspects. The one planning it… I think he's either mad at the mob or wants their attention. It's not about the money."

Gordon closed the folder. "Good theory. Get some small times to work with you, kill them off, and repeat. Nothing solid to prove it yet. Not until we find this… Joker."

Merla couldn't think of anything to say. The Joker started a little after Gordon got his promotion. Now he was haunted by this case. When he was put in charge of MCUhe insisted on Merla getting transferred with him from his last precinct. She could see how everything was slowly wearing him down: the mob, the Joker, and trying to live a sane life. With her parents over a thousand miles away and their currently uncomfortable standing, perhaps she looked to Gordon as a bit more of a father figure than a mentor. If that was the case, she couldn't lose that close of a relationship with someone. Not again.

She stood and looked him squarely in the eye. "I'll go give the file to… well. Him. Maybe he can follow the leads I managed to find. It's late. You go home, see your family, Boss."

There was a heaviness in Gordon's eyes as he looked up to his protégé. "You sure? I should be the one. Besides this was supposed to be your day off… you should be the one heading home."

Meeting his eyes proved difficult suddenly. She walked over to the door and silently opened it. There was a hesitant moment that passed before she glanced over her shoulder and spoke softly. "But you have a life to go home to, Boss. I don't. Take care of yourself."

And she left his office, fighting back sting of tears begging to form. The memories tried to creep up the back of her neck and she fought them down with grim determination. Merla still had to meet with the Batman and deliver the information. He might not be happy to see her, but that was too bad. She'd protect the people who mattered to her against any odds. Even if the odds consisted of an irate Batman.

* * *

He didn't take terribly long. Or maybe Merla just stared out into the dark city and got absorbed into the sight of Gotham at night. She had found the power switch for the flood light and flipped it on. The loud hum it generated at first made her hope she wouldn't accidently electrocute herself. After that she stood watch and gazed out looking at the city with arms crossed over her chest. At the city she wanted to help so much. Like Gordon. Maybe even like the man she was waiting for.

Last time he had come and gone without a sound. The familiar noise of the city echoed from below and all around, but she still strained her ears to listen for anything. The wind picked up and pushed her ponytail over her shoulder for a moment, the rushing sound hurrying past her ears. For a moment she thought she heard a sound like a flag whipping against the wind, but the wind was drowning out sound on the roof of MCU with strong currents. Not nearly as strong as the voice behind her though.

"You called me."

Merla felt her shoulders stiffen reflexively and the back of her throat tighten. That was the second time. She wouldn't show him the satisfaction of catching her off guard again. Slowly turning to face him she kept her arms crossed. His piercing gaze nailed her in place, and she mustered all her will to do the same to him. Merla said nothing. Batman said nothing.

Displeasure radiated off of him and she could almost hear his thoughts of _'Don't waste my time.'_ She uncrossed her arms and opened her jacket to retrieve the copied file. The wind hit her long sleeved shirt underneath and took most of the warmth from Merla's lungs. It ached, but she passed the pain aside as she approached him.

"Evidence collection from the bank heist, with the other bank jobs as well. Cross references of similarities between the crimes under my notes." She held out the file as she got closer, feeling a trickle of dread lingering in the core of her chest as she got closer. It was like walking towards the center of the pitch black night. With the city lights were sparkling stars that he blocked with his shadowy form as stars he became the void of a black hole.

When she got close enough he took the file. Not snatching; he just let it slide into his gloved hand. She didn't let go of the folder yet. His eyes went from the file to her eyes and showed he wasn't amused.

"There's something important." Merla explained softly, her eyes not backing down from his. "I found two leads. One I can't follow and the other will take time."

The Batman inclined his head to show he was listening. She released the file when she knew he wasn't going to dash off. "A gun," she resumed. "Or I should say the past owner of a gun. Matched with an old crime but was never recovered. Until today. The man, Roland Edelstein, served time at county and was released. Had contact with his parole officer for a few months, and then never checked in again. His rap sheet's inside. I can't find anything else on him. It will take time to track him down."

"Find him, find who got the gun." The gravely voice finished for her.

She nodded and zipped her jacket shut again. It wasn't oddly as cold near Batman, probably since he was blocking the wind. "Exactly. Find where the gun went, we got our next link in the chain."

"The other lead?"

"DNA. Have nothing that matches in the database or from the bank jobs. That goes on the back burner until something can be found to compare it with. Could be from a security guard on vacation for all I know. It's still something." Merla sighed and lowered her eyelids slightly, looking more at his chest than his face. "Some evidence still is being processed and will take time."

"I need access to it." The Batman deadpanned.

Her eyes shot up to his again. "Like hell. It's being processed and stays in evidence." She pursed her lips a little in thought, biting her lower lip. "Alright, look." Her hands shoved into her jacket pockets and her eyes found his feet now. Gordon trusted him but she couldn't hand over evidence. Breaking the chain of custody would ruin any chance of using it for an arrest, let alone a conviction. There were other ways.

"Boss trusts you, so I'll do this. When the reports come in I'll have them. They're already on priority so either tomorrow or the next day." Dark eyes met dark eyes once more. "I'll give them to you once it's ready. I'm sure Gordon would be okay with it."

At some point the file had vanished from his hands, and Batman said nothing. He didn't argue but didn't exactly agree either. But something was confounding her. Her eyes couldn't tear away from his. Maybe it was to see him disappear or to glean some insight into the mystery that he was. She wasn't sure. Despite his powerful presence something nagged at her. Yet Merla didn't want him to leave yet. Cops and citizens alike had mixed feelings about the Batman. Not her.

"I…" her voice was almost a whisper now. Eyes begging to divert from his steely gaze, she only took a step back from him as a show of her sudden discomfort. "I'm glad you're working with us. Or towards the same goal. There are good people in the city, and they deserve a good city in return."

It was too much and she couldn't look at him anymore. Merla had to turn her entire face away. Now it wasn't intimidation, it was the discomfort of opening herself. Even Gordon she had difficulty opening herself to. But Merla needed him to know he wasn't resented by the city, by the cops. By her. Even if he did manage to sneak up on her a lot.

His voice stirred her from her thoughts. It was softer this time, still a hint of danger in it but almost gentler. "The people of this city are good people. Gordon's one of them. So are you."

A weak laugh in her chest was all she could muster for a moment. She didn't consider herself terribly good. Doing the right thing and protecting people was all she wanted to do. But good? She watched the lights of the city shined back in some strange response to her thoughts. "Yeah… well. What about you?"

But there was no answer. When she looked up he was gone, again. But she couldn't curse in frustration. There was too much lingering in her mind already. In silence she walked over to the flood light and pulled the heavy switch to turn it off. Arms wrapped around herself she walked to the access door for the roof and slowly opened it. With a glance back into the inky night, she spoke gently to Batman even if he couldn't hear.

"You're a good person too. Don't forget it."

The door swung shut behind her. She didn't know, but her words did not go unnoticed by him.

* * *

**A/N:** _Just so you all know, this story is a test. I wanted to see how it would be received. It's horribly long and I wanted to cut it shorter, but the need for you readers to understand where I'm going was important to me. If you enjoyed it and want to read more, tell me. I'm not holding the story ransom to reviews, but if I think no one is enjoying it as much as I enjoyed writing it then I don't see the point in posting. Sorry if it sounds harsh, but I want to make sure people actually like this story. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on this story or my other ones. I'm going to keep writing no matter what anyway. _

_P.S. Am I the only one who thinks the Batman Begins and Dark Knight sections should be combined? And why are some characters listed in one section and not the other? C'mon fanfiction, get it together!_

_P.P.S. Yeah. I changed the title and the character's last name. I wasn't happy with it. And why the heck did the first line repeat? I also was half awake while writing the author's note... so I fixed my spelling errors. Sowy. _


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Hope I didn't worry everyone into thinking I wouldn't update. I ended up writing a very long section to insert that I'm not even totally done with. It's now up to ten pages while my original story including the last chapter is up to twenty six. Thank you for everyone's reviews, and I hope this was worth the wait._

* * *

Gordon had departed by time she had left the rooftop. She left a note under his door saying they needed to talk tomorrow. Her ride home was quick and uneventful, but exhaustion was setting in. Off work she wasn't as wired and lost her determination, that push to keep fighting. Merla would probably get compensation for her overtime, but nothing could repay the loss of sleep. The worst part was she had begun to slowly grow adapt to getting less and less of it now. Only on long nights like this did it show; her skin more pallid than usual and her eyes rimmed with heavy shadows. It wasn't until she got closer to her apartment that any relief started to seep into her body.

She locked her car and took her lab kit in for safe keeping. It wasn't long until her feet managed to drag her to her apartment door to unlock, slip in with surprising speed, close and relock. Gotham was too dangerous to leave your guard down for any amount of time. Once in she left the silver case of her lab kit near the door and she pulled out of her brown jacket. She tried to place it on a chair in her small, pseudo-living room but it collapsed in crumpled pile. Every movement for Merla was slow and almost lethargic, so exhausted even her skin tingled with numbness.

She shambled into her bedroom and started to remove her personal effects. Her ID, her gun inside its holster, her wallet and keys were deposited on the dresser. Merla staggered close to the bed and sat down. The faint sinking sensation the mattress gave her was comforting and she savored it. Squirming and tugging at the laces of her boots, Merla slipped out of them and kicked them across the room to collide with the door to her closet. She crawled up the mattress and flipped onto her back, not bothering to get any further undressed. Moving was difficult anyway.

Her watch dug into her wrist uncomfortably, so she managed the fine manipulation of unclasping it and dropped it on her dresser. She set her cell phone to wake her at 9 am, a few hours later than she normally would. Her hours today would more than make up for it. Merla's cell phone was placed next to her watch on the nightstand, followed by her glasses. She tugged the scrunchie out of her hair and loosened the long dark strands with her hand. It was strange, but somehow if she washed her hair then tied it back for most of the day, when she would untie it her hair was the way she wanted it to be. Normally frizzy brown hair that wanted to puff out and behave erratically was now for the most part straight and smooth with a hint of a curl at the bottom.

Merla combed her hair with her fingers a bit more, having always found it a strange, soothing compulsion. She tried to go over the day behind closed eyes. Another bank robbery was interesting, yet a terrible pain to deal with. Whoever was behind them was smart, and horribly crafty. It was a difficult puzzle, and if she had indeed gotten a step closer to tracking him down it was worth giving up a day off. And meeting Batman, twice in one day no less. Or night, whatever. Merla was far too exhausted to be clinical right now.

She still didn't understand how she had offered to give him more evidence when they were finished with it. They allowed prosecutors and defenders access to the information, but it was still an on going investigation and not something to be lightly handed out. And how did Gordon know Batman so well? Merla always had a suspicion there was more that went on that mad night that started with all those criminals escaping Arkham Asylum, especially where it concerned Gordon. But between the criminals and this strange toxin in the water getting released into the air in the Narrows, she knew something worse had been prevented. Gordon and Batman had both done something important, leaving Gordon promoted to Lieutenant and over to MCU. Batman was looked on more favorably by the public in general now. And to top it all off, even though she had done nothing, Gordon brought Merla along to work at MCU.

Now she was helping the Batman as well, but Merla couldn't help but wonder if she was getting in as deep as Gordon. She didn't want to be used at all, especially not someone she even knew. The Lieutenant trusted her and worked with her, while with Batman she just passed off information to him. Merla didn't like it one bit, and the thought caused her hand to still from its repetitive action.

However, if it did yield results for the investigation, it might just be worth it. That thought was comforting for Merla as she rolled to her side and curled up to try and recover her energy. Gordon wouldn't mind her coming in an hour or so late tomorrow, or would probably yell at her to go back home. The thought was enough to make a faint smile tug at her lips before she succumbed to the darkness of her dreams.

* * *

When the first few hints of light started to stain the inky sky blue in the east, Batman returned to the freight yard. Away in the bunker, a makeshift hideout until the manor was rebuilt, he could discard his alter ego and resume being Bruce Wayne again. It was the same nearly every night. However tonight had been interesting, to say the least, for both the caped crusader and the billionaire.

Batman's work still wasn't finished, even with the suit gone. After donning a more practical outfit of black slacks and a t-shirt, Bruce sat at the computer terminal he had set up and deposited a manila folder. He flipped it open to read through the report more thoroughly. The first page was very neatly written notes, just as the woman had said. Her name was signed at the bottom for most of the evidence reports, but Bruce didn't need to read it to know who she was. Both times they had met he had caught a good glace of her ID dangling around her neck.

Merla Reinard. She was a strange one. Distrusting Batman when they first met, and giving him an illegal copy of evidence the second time. Hell, she had almost pulled her gun on him in the vault when he had spoken up. Then she had complimented him; or Batman at least. After that she was the one who had summoned him with the searchlight. She even had the audacity to not release the promised information at first until she could say what she wanted to.

'_And her eyes.'_ Bruce mused while running his fingers through his hair. '_Intense. Like a challenge or she needed to prove something.'_ He left the folder open and started to do a search on her through his database. _'Gordon says he trusts her, and she only calmed down when he had talked to her. What did she call him again? Boss?'_

Bruce glanced between the computer and the open report. He leafed through it slowly. _'Still… she seems smart. Very smart. Not sure if I can trust her… but she did offer more information on the bank robbery.'_ A chuckle escaped when he recalled her reaction after Batman asked for the rest of the evidence information that wasn't ready.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself last night, Master Wayne." an elderly and familiar voice stated from the lowering platform behind him.

Not turning from the console as he started skimming through the results the computer had spewed up on his recent encounter, Bruce spoke up. "You could say that, Alfred. Came across something… different."

Alfred stood behind him and deposited a stainless steel coffee thermos on the desk. "Different, Master Wayne? I guess this," he squinted and read the name on various documents the screen had open. "Miss Reinard wouldn't happen to be a prospective date?" Bruce had almost spat out the coffee back into the thermos that he had started to sip from when Alfred said that. But the old man continued. "You know doing full background checks isn't what some might call romantic, sir."

"She's an information contact. Of sorts." The younger man tried to look through Merla's credit card history while his brain wrapped around his butler's words. _'Merla Reinard dating Bruce Wayne. Right. Can't say I can picture her in a ballroom gown, giggling over champagne at some gala. Maybe glaring at a fund raiser and intimidating the wealthy class of Gotham into donating more.'_ Bruce tried not to chuckle again and shook the thoughts from his head. "I just need to know if she's legitimate."

"Ah. Of course, sir. I was worried that chocolates and flowers had grown out of fashion." The wise butler chose not to divulge further, especially since his master's reaction was so noteworthy. His eyes looked over the screen again. "Looks like very little information in Gotham about her until a few years ago."

"Everyone comes from somewhere, Alfred. I'll have to expand the search nationally. She didn't have a local accent, but I can't place it." Bruce mused while typing away at the console. The bills were tagged and sent into a folder with his quarry's name on it before beginning a more expanded search.

Alfred lifted the folder off the desk while Bruce was occupied. "These wouldn't happen to be on the recent bank robbery, would they?" The other man just nodded as he examined the contents slowly. "Master Wayne, please tell me you didn't steal this information from the police."

"No, she gave them to me, and offered more information as well. That's why I need to see if Batman can trust her." A program skimmed through national newspapers in the background and Bruce leaned back in his chair. He took another long sip of coffee before opening a new file for his search on Roland Edelstein.

* * *

Merla awoke uncomfortably and terribly disoriented in her bed as her cell phone blared its wakeup call. It didn't interrupt any pleasant dreams; years had past from the last time she could recall actually dreaming. She just never was very organized when she first stirred in the morning. Grabbing the offensive device and deactivating the alarm brought some satisfaction and clarity of mind. But she was still in her work clothes. And they were starting to get a little ripe. Merla wrinkled her nose, crawled out of bed and slipped out of the offensive articles in an autonomic fashion. Dumping the previous night's clothes into her hamper that resided in the bathroom, she yawned and started to run water in the shower. Her muscles relaxed under the hot water and Merla took her time enjoying the sensation. It was a small indulgence she could afford today. Once every knot insider her body which was willing to unwind gave in she did her usual speedy scrubbing.

After toweling off and pulling on a fresh set of work clothes she glanced at her wall clock. 9:26. More than enough time. She wouldn't be surprised if Gordon had her clocked to start work at some point past noon. Merla hated not working since so much needed to be done in the city. Every hour she worked was one step closer to slowing the seeping corruption rampant in Gotham. And honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Consuming a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice for breakfast she gathered her belongings for work and left her apartment. After locking her door securely she took the stairs to the ground floor. She passed a few fellow tenants she didn't recognize on the way and gripped her metal lab kit tighter. A few of her neighbors on her floor had seen her with it before and gave strange looks each time. Merla didn't look like business woman type, especially not in jeans and a beat up brown jacket. Or maybe they thought at first glance she was a hitman or a drug dealer. It was plausible in Gotham. When they found out she was in law enforcement it seemed to be a source of relief. After all, they had spent half a year thinking who knows what about her before hand.

Once at the lobby she made for the residential parking. Merla wouldn't call where she resided the best of neighborhoods or the classiest of apartment buildings, but not having to park on the street was a wonderful perk to her living environment. Not that she had a terribly impressive vehicle to her name, but she was still dependant on having a car. After leaving the brick and concrete apartment building behind her next destination was MCU.

Traffic was light since she had a later start than usual today, but she called her Boss just to check in with him. At a red light she plugged in the headpiece she kept in the glove compartment. Merla pressed for the only programmed speed dial on her phone and let it sit open in a nearby cup holder.

After a few rings she heard his familiar voice. "Gordon here."

"Tell me you at least got to have breakfast with your family today." Merla interrogated while switching on her left turn signal.

A soft chuckle. "Yes I did, Reinard. I asked them to push your schedule back a bit to compensate for yesterday, but I didn't have you pegged for a few more hours."

"Don't worry about moving it, I'll just check in early."

"You know it's nearly mid-month and you're already almost booked for allotted overtime."

Swerving slightly to avoid getting hit by a brash driver that cut her off, making Merla suddenly wished she could have the usual black and white of marked police cars instead of her less intimidating vehicle. "I'll see what we can do so I don't get an earful from HR. Maybe pop in a few more off days to balance it." She sounded her car horn in displeasure at the impudent man who almost caused an accident. City driving as per usual. "Speaking of which, I might need to stay a bit later tonight. I'll need to talk to you in private about why."

"Sure. I'll be here in the office."

"Be in shortly, Boss." The cell phone was flipped shut from its resting place as Merla continued her drive uninterrupted.

Twenty minutes later she had parked and signed in at the log book. The desk sergeant for today, a man named Jacobs, just shook his head and frowned at her slightly. He always was gently chastising her for working so much for someone her age. Merla shrugged a bit and gave a faint smile as she walked past and headed up to Gordon's office. Thankfully, he wasn't on the phone as of yet.

The lieutenant stood over his desk and motioned with his hand to shut the door when she peeked inside. As the door audibly closed behind her he spoke up.

"Drop off the file without problems last night?" Straight to business it was.

"Yes sir. I included a copy of the same notes I made for you as well." Merla paused and pursed her lips slightly before continuing. "He wanted to see the evidence that hadn't been finished with processing. I figured you wanted him in the loop so I told him I would deliver the rest of the findings when it was ready."

Gordon nodded and slipped his hands into pockets. "That's fine. Anything he can find on logged evidence after we get a look can still be used."

Merla glanced at her watch. It was 10:23. "Better get to the grind, Boss. Who knows what we'll get today."

His face wore a grim expression. "Don't remind me. Commissioner's still on my back." The Lieutenant's eyes brightened as the young woman stood. "But don't let that be a reason to rush, kid. Better to get it done right than fast and wrong."

Merla put her hands on her hips and jokingly stuck out her chin. "Just who do you think you're talking to? Some rookie who's all thumbs? Nuh uh." The two shared a grin as she stalked to the door in faux anger. When she swung open the door she stole a glance back to Gordon. "And don't call me kid. Even my folks know better."

The older man chuckled. His protégé left swiftly before he could query about her parents, but he had grown used to such behavior. Merla didn't talk much about her past, and Gordon was too respectful to pry. His instincts that had developed over the years as a cop told him the young woman hadn't done anything unethical prior to coming to Gotham. Besides, Merla's actions spoke volumes more about her character than anything she would willingly communicate verbally. She felt comfortable enough with Gordon to joke around and let her guard down. The veteran cop would talk about his family sometimes, and Merla would smile and ask how they were. Beyond that, her life prior to arriving in Gotham was never really spoken of.

Merla made her way for MCU's lab which resided on the fourth floor of the building. After the event dubbed the Narrows Attack it was evident that a unit with authority over multiple departments was needed in Gotham. Their main goal was to prevent and counter any attack on Gotham of such a massive scale, as well as the removal of organized crime. Anything that had an effect on the population of Gotham on a whole fell under their jurisdiction. Lofty aspirations to be certain, but complex crimes needed to be handled without the red tape that usually accompanied inter-department handling. Of course, if something did go wrong the new unit would most likely be blamed.

Never the less, Merla was thankful for the opportunity. She hated the department she was at last with a passion. Most of the other crime scene investigators weren't as thorough either out of laziness or they knew the charges wouldn't stick. There were even a few instances of "misplaced" evidence that got lost forever. It was obvious someone was on the take, and it only served to enrage Merla further. It was a corrupt city and a corrupt department.

Only having Gordon around made it bearable. It left her full of hope that there actually were decent people in the city. People who never fell to corruption, people who fought even when things were darkest. People she could believe in. So when Gordon got his promotion and offered a position to Merla at the newly formed MCU, her smile was the brightest she had ever given to Gotham.

Today she didn't feel like smiling. Before where the mob had been bold and brash, now they were slowly getting quieter. Between the efforts of MCU and a certain masked vigilante deterring their efforts they had grown wise to the new threat to their power. One daunting aspect was the gap that an insane Falcone left. Maroni took over, but still had to fight for that position against the Chechen. Hell, a months or so ago they had exchanged bullets in a gunfight that Allen and Ramirez had somehow gotten caught in the middle of. Between the fire damage and collecting all of the bullets and shell casing it only left Merla with a pain in her back and a sour disposition.

That was the past, however. Today she was focused on the bank robbery and any other cases that got passed over to her. Evidence processing took time, time they didn't always have. Commissioner Loeb breathing down their necks didn't make machines run faster, didn't make running comparisons any simpler, and sure as hell didn't make crime scene investigators happy. They were strapped as it is with people and equipment, but managed to make do with what they had. It left people like Merla and Gordon stretched out thin in the end.

However, today looked slow for MCU. That, or Gordon had diverted cases away from Merla's grasp. She spent a large part of her morning organizing all the case work they had gathered from across departments on the mob. It was menial work that still needed to get done. The GCPD couldn't afford to hire them a clerk to handle the filing and record keeping, so all the criminalists in the lab did their part to keep the paperwork organized.

Things didn't pick up until after lunch. Everyone in the crime lab department called in an order at a nearby deli. They made a decent sub and were typically frequented by members of MCU throughout the day. Merla had finished her turkey club and went right back to carefully filing evidence reports when the phone rang.

Ron, the fingerprint technician for MCU, picked it up. "Major Crimes Unit, crime lab." He popped one of the potato chips that had accompanied his lunch while the person on the other line talked. It rudely crunched along. "Umm hmm. Sure, hold on." Ron poked the mute button with a slightly greasy finger before leaning out of the break room and shouting down the hall. "Reinard, line two. D.A. office callin' ya."

"Right" was all the recognition Merla gave that she had indeed heard him. She sat down at the small desk in the record room and picked up the receiver. "Reinard."

"Merla Reinard?" A soft, feminine voice asked over the line. "This is Assistant District Attorney Dawes. You handled evidence for the Rakov case, correct?"

Merla leaned back in the worn office chair, working through her mental catalog of cases she had worked on in MCU. Rakov. Kolzak Rakov. He had stabbed a drug dealer that had been encroaching on the "territory" of the Russian mob. She remembered having to search through a storm drain not too far from the crime to recover the bloody blade. The stench of wet sewer clung to her for half a day. Merla couldn't help her nostrils from flaring in memory.

They also found a small portion of Rakov's employer's drug stash at his apartment, but no leads to a supplier just yet. That wasn't her part of the job. Merla worked with all the evidence found, and now it was up to the detectives to pound the pavement. It did leave a sensation of helplessness, but she could only do her part when more evidence was recovered. Then she could find the next direction their case was pointing and some eventual closure.

"I collected evidence on that case, correct." She also had considered strangling Rakov a few times for making her crawl through oil runoff, wet leaves, garbage, and things far too unpleasant for her to acknowledge.

"His trial is coming up in a week and I'll be prosecuting. I need to go over the evidence with you and prep you as a witness."

Merla pushed her glasses up and pinched the bridge of her nose. She hated court appearances. Even though it was part of her job, she never felt comfortable with it. Waiting for hours. Wearing fancy, uncomfortable clothes. Having a room full of strangers staring at you, hanging on every word. Talking to the jury as though they were twelve year-olds so they could understand the science behind her work. Talking to defense attorneys like they were five. Even though the court system was another facet of the justice system she still found it a great annoyance.

She shook her head and let out a sigh. "Alright. Do you need any documentation from here?"

Rachel answered with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "That's not necessary. I have all the information here." She paused before softening her tone. "When are you available to stop by the D.A.'s office?"

Closing her eyes, Merla thought on this. By tomorrow, Sunday, the evidence on the bank robbery should be prepared and would have to be passed on to the Batman. She somehow doubted the district attorney's office would be open all day on a weekend anyway. Monday was a safe bet, and probably wouldn't take too long so she could still come in to work afterwards.

"Monday is fine. The sooner we can put the mob behind bars, the better."

There was a faint chuckle on Rachel's end. "No disagreement here. Monday. Is 9 am good?"

That would give Merla enough time to check in on MCU before having to head downtown. She nodded her head, even though the A.D.A. wouldn't see it. "I'm sure Gordon won't complain. See you on Monday, Ms. Dawes."

"Thank you, Ms. Reinard."

And with that they each hung up. Merla rolled her neck as it had chosen a fine time to stiffen up. It was most likely the prospect of having to spend work hours with lawyers in a few days as well as getting grilled on the stand. Still, she knew court appearances were part of being a forensic scientist. It didn't necessarily mean she had to enjoy it, however.

She glanced at her watch to check the time. It was getting close to two o'clock and she still hadn't been called to a crime scene yet. Working at MCU meant only crimes linked to the mob or other massive attacks against Gotham were her business. Other crimes that happened every day, from a kid holding up a liquor store at gunpoint to violent rapes, were handled by the appropriate department that fell under the location's jurisdiction. Sometimes another station would respond to a crime and find out the mob was involved. Usually unless it was high profile, excessively important, or relevant to a case MCU was already working, they usually allowed that station to handle the crime.

And right now, Merla had a string of bank robberies to solve. It seemed that some of the evidence was still being processed. This was mainly due to the amount of effort it took to reconstruct such a massive as well as devastated crime scene. She chose to resume her efforts in finding Roland Edelstein, and hopefully how his gun ended up being used in a bank robbery. There was no direct connection between the dead suspect found with said gun and Edelstein himself. The only logical explanations were either the gun was stolen, which was possible but unlikely, or Edelstein sold the gun. Of course, a pawn shop was a very stupid option that even a small time crook wouldn't make. That left the local illegal arms market, which anyone could access if they knew the right people.

Heading for one of the lab's computer's, Merla pulled up Edelstein's information and printed out a copy. It was doubtful, but maybe one of the detectives could be assigned to tracking him down. Only Gordon could okay that, but she wanted to continue working on the bank robbery case before that. She slid the papers into an empty folder and set it aside for later. Her fight to protect Gotham was an endless task, and Merla showed no sign of relenting to the cruelness humanity could muster.

* * *

Evening came swiftly, and soon Gotham was blanketed in darkness. A bit after half past seven one of the members of the crime lab had deemed Merla in charge of dropping off paperwork to Gordon's office today. In truth, she never had a problem with visiting the Lieutenant and needed a break from staring at lab reports. However this didn't stop her from glaring at her co-worker and clearly stating she wasn't an intern that did the office's menial work. None the less she took the small pile of papers and went straight to Gordon's office on the second floor.

Merla had to pass through the aptly named bullpen where all of MCU's detectives resided. It always felt like the heart of MCU, usually with its own flow and rhythm that fell into different tempos. When the mob was quiet in Gotham the bullpen filled with a slow, smooth drumming as detective planned themselves in a careful weariness. Other times a frantic pace swept through the room as policemen raced in time to counter the growing violence between criminal organizations. The Lieutenant's office was the only closed, private space off to the side with windows facing the bullpen. Gordon was the just lord of this domain.

The door was closed, but the blinds on the windows were pulled up. Merla could see her Boss sitting behind his desk, coffee mug in hand. The sight made her grin. She knocked on the door just under the plaque that stated "Lieutenant Gordon" in bold letters.

"Come in."

Gordon's face was set in concentration when she opened the door. He was carefully studying another report that consumed most of his attention. When Merla's Boss looked up to see his visitor his face relaxed slightly. He even started to smile, that is, until he spotted the handful of papers in his protégé carried with her. This fact elicited a groan from the older man.

"Damn it, if it wasn't for the pay raise I wouldn't have accepted this damned position." Gordon grumbled and sank into his worn leather chair.

Merla chuckled and moved to the front of his desk, holding out the dreaded paper to him. "Sorry Boss. Usual office paperwork. Only your signature will be acceptable." As her Boss took it begrudgingly, Merla shifted uncomfortably. Now wasn't a good time to bring up Edelstein, but she had hit a wall and needed help.

"Boss… about the latest bank robbery…" This got his attention as he set down the new attention to his growing stack of paperwork. Merla continued, "I know it's not a big lead but I really feel that tracking down Edelstein would help us out. Not only would it lead to this Joker guy but we could find some of the illegal arms dealers in Gotham."

Gordon frowned a bit, making his mustache dip further downwards. "I'm sorry Reinard, but I just don't have the men for it. MCU's stretched thin enough trying to find where the mob's money is going in addition to handling all their dirty dealings in Gotham." The young woman sighed and allowed her shoulders to slump, a vulnerable sign of defeat she only allowed the Lieutenant to see. He noticed this while taking a sip of coffee to deter the slight sting of guilt he felt. Gordon set down his mug and teased a bit to cheer her up. "Besides… at this rate I'll be forced into early retirement from carpal tunnel and you can badger the next guy the Commissioner hires for this job."

"Don't say that, Boss. You're the only one who could actually start some change inside the police force." Merla said this forcefully, but then slipped into a soft smile. "Besides, what do you expect? You spent over twenty years on your feet working the streets. You weren't made for desk work."

Gordon smirked and sat up straight in his office chair, hands folded gently over the stack of paperwork on his desk. "You know, suddenly I feel terribly flattered. My ego certainly feels bolstered…" The criminalist chuckled and shook her head as he continued. "Maybe just enough to let you leave early."

Merla's smile sunk. "That's not necessary, Boss. If I push I can get the bank robbery wrapped up by-"

"**If** you push." He interrupted. "But I'm not going to let you. You're too young to push yourself in this line of work. Yesterday was supposed to be your day off and you almost pulled an all-nighter. And yes, I know I was the one to call you in. I also remember saying that you wouldn't work long today. Go home, have a nice meal," Gordon paused for a moment, eyeing her. "A **real** meal. Get some rest."

The forensic scientist suddenly got very quiet and uncomfortable. Her right hand started to fidget with her left and she couldn't keep eye contact for very long. When she spoke again her voice was soft and uncertain. "What about you, Boss?"

Gordon smiled brightly, making blue eyes sparkle behind tortoise frames. It wasn't often he truly smiled at work, but Merla always seemed to being it out from him. "I'll try and make it home for dinner with everyone." He then tilted his head and added in a teasing note, "That is, if you leave now."

Merla smirked a bit and held up her hands allowing the older man victory. "Alright. Alright. You win boss. Just let me grab my stuff, okay?"

"You have ten minutes before I renege." The Lieutenant held up his wrist to examine his watch.

"Fine!" The young woman threw up her hands dramatically and left his office. As she went to close the office door behind her, she paused and poked her head back in with a grin on her face. "Think you could give a little extra time so I could use the restroom?"

"Eight minutes! Out!"

Gordon could hear Merla chuckling as she closed the door behind her. He shook his head at her behavior, a smile unable to depart from his face. Tilting back in his office chair, Gordon looked over his desk. Over the past hour the contents overflowing inside his inbox had been working its way into his outbox, but more reports and papers still waited patiently for his attention. Only a small amount remained, but that was before Merla had dropped off additional paperwork from the crime lab. His gaze wandered to the other end of his desk where a lamp and a few picture frames rested. A particular photo he held in regard right now was of him with Barbara and the kids on their last vacation. Everyone was laughing and smiling on a sandy beach with waves cresting in the background.

Picking up the phone from his desk, Gordon punched in a familiar series of numbers before holding the receiver to his ear. It rang twice before someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello?"

Another genuine smile spread over the Lieutenant's face.

"Hey Barb? Think you could find room for me at dinner tonight?"

* * *

**A/N:** _Now we have some Bruce, some Alfred, and Rachel making appearances. Hmmm!! Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter, but this seemed like a better spot to stop then the next part since things will shift gears slightly. And yes, evidence work takes a while and I thought it would be too soon to have a massive crime scene like one of the Joker's bank jobs ready after one day. I mean, c'mon, he leaves such a mess!! Also, I actually got some information off the site ! You might notice the nod to Gotham Knight as well, which I highly recommend for at the least a rental. For those action fans out there, Batman is going to show up more, don't worry. Please do review, because I wanted to make sure the addional writings that I slipped into my story work well. Thanks again for your support!_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _Finally! An update! The insert came down to 15 pages and is finally, FINALLY intergrated with the main story document. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, and to all my readers around the globe. I'm so surprised at the number of non-USA readers! I'm glad The Dark Knight is loved overseas and you actually are interested in my story! ^_^ _

* * *

Merla checked her watch as she drove through Gotham's night life. It was a quarter past eight and probably the earliest she had ever left work. Well, at least in this city. Hunger was starting to gnaw at her insides, but she wasn't in the mood for takeout. Besides, Gordon had demanded she eat a "real" meal, as he called it. However, the idea of leaving her crime scene kit in the car, even for a quick stop at a grocer's, left her unsettled. In the end, hunger won. Merla steered her car for a small grocery she had found several months back. It was clean and satisfactory enough for her needs.

After reaching her destination she parked a few blocks away. A rush of cold air collided with her body as she exited her car. She was forced to quickly zip her jacket closed. The sun had disappeared behind taller buildings a few hours ago taking with it the little warmth early spring enjoyed. Merla pulled her jacket carefully over her holster, not wishing to advertise the fact that she was currently armed. Law enforcement was allowed to carry and conceal their weapons, but being a forensic scientist and not a patrol officer was a vast difference. It wasn't required for her to remain armed after she clocked out, and she hated carrying around a loaded gun even while on the job. She couldn't wait to become separated from the heavy metal clinging to her hip, but sadly didn't have that option at the moment.

Inside the grocery were a few lingering shoppers. It wasn't as large as the chain supermarkets that dotted the city, but still a decent enough size. The limited inhabitants inside made the space feel desolate. Merla had the small aisle of freezers to herself where she picked up a few bags of frozen vegetables. Knowing her Boss wouldn't settle for her going home only once to have a regular meal, the idea of stocking up on some meal-worthy food to store in her freezer was a sound one. The grocery also offered a limited selection of already prepared food for sale, as Merla was obviously not the only customer that didn't have time to cook dinner. A roast half chicken with mixed vegetables would suffice as a meal for tonight. Adding a few fresh apples and oranges to the plastic hand basket, Merla paid for her goods and left the small grocery.

It was halfway back to her car that she heard it. Perhaps it was fate that Merla had been forced to park her vehicle further from the grocery store down that particular street, because as she walked down the sidewalk a very distinct sound met her ears. That horrible noise of an impacting force on flesh was very distinct, and the aberrant crash repeated over and over again. It echoed down the alley further ahead to her right, and Merla followed the tumult with slow footsteps. Peering around the edge of a brick building bordering the alley, she found the source.

In what little lighting draped the alley two visible figures struggled. That is to say, one figure had braced another against a brick wall and was pounding its fists relentlessly. The horrible sound echoed down the narrow, filth ridden alley until the target of the attack collapsed and started to receive forceful kicks. Appalling moments like this was commonplace in the darkest places of Gotham, and Merla was well aware of that. It didn't change the fact she didn't know how to respond. Yes, she was in law enforcement, but her job came after a crime. She had no training on how to intervene in a criminal act. This didn't stop the young woman's sense of justice from rolling and pitching inside her starved stomach. Watching the foulness of Gotham consume another victim was not an option.

With rage induced fluidity Merla dropped her plastic shopping bags, drew her handgun from her waist, flicked off the safety and rounded the corner of the building. Even now the cold metal felt unbearably heavy in her hands as she trained the sight on the merciless attacker. The thought of never having aimed her gun at a human being before flitted through her mind. Still, she forced her voice as steady and cold as the weapon in her hands.

"Freeze, Gotham PD!"

The dark figure halted his assault and turned towards the new addition to the alleyway. In the shadow gloom she couldn't make out his face, but it didn't matter. The suspect turned and fled. Merla dashed after him in an attempt to scare him off from his victim. The attacker had been too far down the alley and too fast for her to chase after him at such a distance. The criminalist halted her pursuit when she reached her true target, the victim of the attack.

Curled up against the brick wall between several filthy trash cans was the trembling form of a man. Bright red blood stained his clothes and he audibly wheezed with every tremor of a breath. Merla glanced down the alley to ensure the man's attacker had indeed left before replacing her gun. She knelt before the battered man and reached out to touch his shaking shoulder.

"Hey, it's alright. You're safe now." Her voice was as soft and quiet as she comforted the quiet man. Drawing out her cell phone from her jacket she dialed 911, keeping her right hand a comforting presence on the man's shoulder. "You're going to be okay. Everything's going to be fine."

A calm, almost cold voice spoke in Merla's ear. "911 emergency response. Please state the nature of your emergency."

"This is CSI Merla Reinard of MCU. I have a mugging victim here that requires immediate medical attention. I'm located on Sable between 55th and 56th street."

"Police and emergency medical has been dispatched and is on its way ma'am."

Merla let out a heavy sigh. "Thank you." With that she flipped her phone shut and returned her attention to the huddled figure. "Ambulance is on its way, but we have to get closer to the street, okay? Can you move?"

His head turned and Merla finally saw the man's face. One eye was swollen shut and purple, the other frightened and having trouble focusing on the woman in front of him. Cuts and bruises marred the dark tan skin on his face, along with a split lip that bled profusely down his chin. The man opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it and nodded his head.

"Alright, let's get you standing. Lean on me all that you have to, I'm here."

The taller man placed trembling hands on Merla's forearms. With slow and steady motions the criminalist pulled him upright. His legs buckled and couldn't support the weight, but she stood fast and wrapped her arms around his torso. Shaky fingers grasped desperately at her shoulders while the two slowly trudged towards the well lit street at the end of the discouraging alley. The young woman guided the battered man towards a close by dirty stoop. With a strangled groan the victimized man allowed himself to be lowered onto the steps.

The two sat in silence as they waited. The man offered no words, no name, no explanation, and no thanks. Not that his rescuer required any acknowledgement to her actions. The man's lack of vocalization did leave her concerned, but she wrote it off as shock from the trauma he had just endured. Merla continued to physically comfort him by holding his shoulder and even gathered enough courage to take his hand into hers. She found herself also with no words to speak.

In due time the approaching sirens and flicking lights hailed the coming of emergency services. Merla straightened her posture reflexively when she spotted a flashing police squad car making its way down the street. The man visibly tensed as well, but the young woman continued her ministrations and soothed away his unspoken fear. Removing her hand from the battered man's shoulder she waved towards the police cruiser. It screeched to a halt near them. Two men, one tall and dark skinned and the other a bit shorter and pale, donning GPD's black uniforms exited the vehicle.

Merla didn't recognize the uniformed police officers, and was fairly certain they didn't know her either. Being a criminalist brought with it a small amount attention. That of course excluded the detectives she worked with and prosecutors she testified for of course. Past that, she was unknown, and Merla was content with that. She stood and presented her badge as the light skinned officer who had opened his mouth to speak first. He raised an eyebrow and glanced to his partner. Apparently her actions amused them.

The darker man spoke first. "It's fine. Dispatch informed us you worked with MCU."

"I wasn't sure." Merla fought with the growing dryness in her throat. She managed to look at the two officers with a steely gaze. "Not exactly certain on procedure here, but I'll let you two work."

The two men seemed to slightly relax at this, though it was slight. The dark skinned man smiling faintly while the paler one just nodded. The later motioned to himself and his partner. "I'm Jimenez and this is Williams."

Merla nodded and slipped her arms around herself to fight the on coming cold. "Reinard."

She watched as the two officers seemed to engage in a short, unspoken conversation of body motions. It painfully reminded Merla of how distant she had grown from people. She once shared such a connection with people she was very close to. Her weight shifted back and forth from one foot to the other as a sign of her discomfort. The movement of Jimenez walking past her to the victim pulled the criminalist back to the moment.

Williams pulled out his notepad and spoke up. "So, I guess you know this part."

The two agents of law enforcement conversed, Merla going over the events that transpired and Williams probing with questions. There wasn't much for her to say, but when she spoke of when she had to draw her weapon she felt her throat tighten. Williams let it slide and silently jot down notes. At some point an ambulance arrived and pulled up behind the idling squad car. Merla paused her story, her body tensing up as the EMTs walked past her for the victim. She forced herself out of the strange discomfort that had seized her body and finished retelling the events.

The officer must have noticed her uneasy body language. Once he finished his note writing he looked her firmly in the eye. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Merla sighed and slipped her hands into her jacket pocket. The cold metal dug into her side through a leather holster and reminding her of its presence. "I know. I'm licensed and trained to use a handgun; I just never had to actually draw it before."

"You shouldn't have to." Williams paused a bit before adding in a softer tone. "Nothing personal."

"It's fine." Merla rolled her shoulders a bit to ease a knot of tension working into her upper back. "Hate the damn thing anyway. I normally leave it locked up at home if I'm off duty."

He raised his eyebrows at this. "So what were you doing out here, still being armed?"

Merla started to answer when her brain finally caught up with her. Between the fear of potentially having to fire her weapon, sympathy from comforting a brutalized man, and plain exhaustion from having to give her statement she had totally forgotten about her grocery bags.

"Oh shit" was all she muttered before turning back for the alley and rushing over to her discarded food.

Williams followed close behind watching Merla as she lifted overturned plastic bag off the disease-ridden ground. The small container with her dinner had opened and spilled onto the ground and was totally unsalvageable. Her frozen goods had started to melt and were slowly soaking bruised fruit. Somehow the fruit managed to stay moderately undamaged and off the untouchable ground. The small woman groaned and held her head, not wanting to think of her explanation to Gordon on why she missed having a decent meal, again.

Shoveling the wasted food with the container lid into its prior home she dumped what would have been a fine dinner into a nearby garbage lid. Williams was kind enough to bag her melting vegetables and injured fruit into the thin plastic bag. He held it out to her with a sympathetic expression.

"Thanks." Merla took her food with immense gratitude. "You have no idea what these past two days have been like."

Williams shrugged it off. "Not a problem. I heard MCU is working the latest bank robbery, so I'm sure that's been a pain."

She smirked slightly, thinking of her encounters with Batman over said robbery. "You have no idea."

* * *

Before the two officers left to follow the departing ambulance Merla gave them her contact information. Undoubtedly they would call her at some point, making another case force its way into her life. She didn't like the idea of being involved in a case where she wasn't handling evidence. Being an eyewitness was far different from testifying over recovered DNA or bullet markings.

Clambering into her car with a soggy bag of groceries, Merla headed home. By the time she trudged into her apartment with her groceries and crime kit in hand it was pushing past ten. She was tired, hungry, and achy. The crime kit was gently placed on her coffee table. Her food wasn't treated with the same amount of care. Merla threw the wet bags of vegetables into her freezer and most of the fruit into her fridge before collapsing into her lone kitchen chair.

She scooted the chair over to the sink, too tired and lazy to stand again, and washed off two apples under cold water. Biting into the fruit with abandon she grinned a bit to herself and thought, _'Well Boss, at least I'm eating healthy tonight.'_

Chuckling she took another huge bite of her apple and chewed enthusiastically. It felt wonderful to get something in her stomach finally, even though the hunger pains had mostly worn off into an annoying sensation. Merla finished her "meal" quickly and tossed the leftover cores into her trash bin. She washed her hands and went straight for the bedroom.

Thankfully tonight she could actually get undressed and ready for bed like most normal working people, but even the thought of having to do more inspired lethargy in her body. Merla hung her coat in the closet, tossed her cell phone, glasses, and ID onto her nightstand, tugged off her belt and holster and dropped it off on her dresser. Her dragging feet carried her straight for the small bathroom. Every motion just sapped more of Merla's strength. The act of brushing her teeth drained the last remnants of energy. After rinsing her mouth she just shoved off her clothes indifferently. They piled next to her bed and she flicked off the lights. Succumbing to the siren call of her bed, partner of sleep, she crawled under the sheets undressed. Merla was too tired to give a damn about her exposure.

The alarm in her cell phone was programmed to go off at 5:30 am, since she wanted enough time to properly wash up and head out for work. Merla shivered and pulled the blankets around her tighter, wishing the ache in her body would ease away through the night. Her head felt heavy as it sunk deeper into the pillow, and the young woman fell into an uncomfortable slumber.

The next morning followed the same process it always did for Merla Reinard, but she didn't feel the same as she always did. Her body still felt sore and her head ached fiercely. Still, she needed to get to work, and crawled her naked form out from the warm sheets she to meet the cold morning air.

'_Isn't the fucking heat on? Damn it…'_ Merla mentally complained as her teeth chattered slightly.

She checked the thermostat in the hall, still covering herself in modesty despite the lack of observers. It was still set to 62 degrees. Still a bit cold in Merla's opinion. Shrugging it off, she grabbed the pile of yesterday's clothes and hurried into the bathroom. Dumping her dirty clothes in the hamper that resided there, she yawned and started to run water in the shower. It refused to warm up this morning. As she shivered under the cold spray, she couldn't avoid muttering to herself about having to speak with her landlord later today. Merla felt her teeth chatter involuntarily as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair as quickly as possible. Even when she toweled off she tried to rub more warmth into her cold skin.

She quickly covered her goose bumped flesh with a set of clean clothes. Merla picked up her belongings off the nightstand and dresser before wandering into the kitchen. Passing her only phone in the residence she groaned at a small red light glowing on the answering machine. A message waited for her and she really didn't want to listen to it. Being on the "do not call" list spared her from telemarketers and their ilk, but it didn't stop her parents from calling her. She turned up the volume and pressed the play button before escaping to the kitchen.

"Merla? It's Mom." A familiar voice called out from the tiny machine. A flick of the light switch revealed a very sparse environment. There was a reason Gordon had chided her last night to actually eat a decent meal for once. Usually her meals boiled down to take out or something small. It left Merla either had to eat away from home or on the run; sometimes it was both. Her mother continued to talk.

"Dad and I miss talking to you. We know things can't go back to the way they were…" She opened the refrigerator and peeked inside. It contained little: some orange juice, a jar of preserves, half a gallon of milk, a few older apples with the newer ones, the recently bruised oranges, a box of half a dozen eggs, a deli package of sliced Munster cheese and one of turkey breast. As she withdrew the milk from the cold interior her mother sighed and continued.

"…but that doesn't mean we don't want you in our life. We miss you so much." The voice started to get choked up, and Merla fought against the same sensation. She shook her head and pulled out a bowl and spoon from their respective resting places. "You work so hard now, and we are proud of you for that." Setting them down on the table she grabbed her kettle and started to fill it with water. "But… your work can't only be your life, Merl."

It was a battle listening to this heart rending speech from her mother, but Merla didn't have it in her to just turn off the machine. That's how she took pain now, with quiet dignity. Turning on the burner for the oven, she started to heat the kettle for tea as her mother continued.

"So, your father and I are planning a trip up to Gotham."

Merla almost dropped the box of cereal she was fetching from her cabinet at those words. She finally spoke up to the disembodied voice. "You're doing WHAT?"

"Just for a few days or so" her mother rushed to clarify as if sensing her daughter's reaction. "You haven't visited us and we never got to see the city before…"

The box of cereal was slammed onto the table, a few loops of Cheerios jumping towards the ceiling in fright. "No mom, NO. You can't possibly…"

"Call us back when you're free, okay? We love you Merl." The answering machine clicked and Merla growled in frustration. She felt her old self starting to bubble under her skin, and it was maddening. The fact she was currently armed didn't help matters. Storming into her bedroom the normally calm criminalist grabbed a pillow and started squeezing it as she gritted her teeth.

It didn't make her feel better. Guilt formed after she realized that she was feeling rage over her parents only being concerned about her. Merla couldn't blame them. Hell, she fled both them and her home just to escape everything. She walked over to her dresser and pulled open the top drawer. It mostly contained her undergarments and socks, but underneath the soft material were two picture frames. One was always wrapped up in a pretty black scarf that she barely ever touched and the other got more attention.

Merla sat back down at her bed with a metal picture frame in hand. Inside was a frozen moment of a happier time in her life, back in the place she still called home. It showed her parents and a very vibrant version of herself. Her father with his gray hair, mustache and beard with a smile that made his cheeks stand out more against the facial hair. He was holding her mother adoringly, who smiled at the photographer with all her heart. Merla was crouching down a bit lower in front of the couple, mid laugh with sparkling eyes that were unhidden from view. All three were robust and rounded out more than was fashionably accepted, but they were happy. The photo was taken in a park that gave an unobstructed view of the Brooklyn Bridge and some of the Manhattan skyline. The sky was clear, and it was a perfect day forever etched into a perfect memory.

Before she lost what meant the most to her. Pins prickled the back of Merla's eyes, coaxing tears to form. It was a fruitless effort and the young woman just let out a slow sigh. She replaced the picture frame gently face down on the top of the dresser and slowly slid the drawer shut. She leaned against the wooden furniture with all her weight as she waged an internal battle. Her knuckles clutched the edges of her dresser, and with one last act of rage from her loss she smacked the metal frame to the floor. Merla cast aside the photo just as she had cast away the life she had. The kettle back in the kitchen hissed for her attention, and the lapse into her old life was gone. She had lingered on the past more than enough for one day and nothing had changed.

Today breakfast for Merla consisted of cereal, a warm cup of peppermint tea, and an apple she continued to gnaw on while she left for work. Small, simple, and quick: just like everything else in her life outside of MCU. Merla forced herself not to dwell on the message her mother left or a past life in New York City. The heavy traffic made it difficult, as lingering thoughts kept slipping towards that particular city. The ache inside her body didn't manage to distract her thoughts terribly well.

MCU proved a welcome sight for her, even though she would have to speak with Gordon about getting some time off. He wasn't one to pry, but the Lieutenant did have a protective side to him. As Merla signed in she figured it would be better to get it over with early on in the day than try and blindside him with it later. She went straight to Gordon's office and peeked through the windows.

The man in question was nursing a cup of coffee as per usual with the phone planted to his ear. Merla opened the door and leaned in slightly to make her presence known. Judging by her Boss' expression and the need for caffeine to get through the conversation left no doubts as to who was on the other line.

"I know Commissioner, but results don't happen overnight. We're working with what we have here and everyone in MCU is either on the mob case or working the bank robbery." Gordon looked up and raised his eyebrows. He grinned and rolled his eyes, his usual expression for dealing with bureaucratic nonsense. Merla stifled a chuckle as her Boss continued. "Yessir. Will do. Goodbye."

As Gordon set down his phone the criminalist stepped further inside. She shut the door behind her and grinned slightly. "Didn't know you had a proctologist appointment so early in the morning, Boss."

Gordon smirked and motioned to the seat across from his desk. "Well… when you get to be my age you have to expect such medical visits." He lifted his mug and took a long sip as Merla sat down. "Don't think that means you have to bust your ass on the bank robbery just because the Commissioner's on mine." The younger woman rolled her eyes at his comment, but he continued none the less. "I mean it. Tell me you ate a real meal last night…"

'_Damn it. Didn't even get to why I'm here and he's already going to get protective on me. Alright, just get it over with.'_ Merla's lips tightened and she had trouble making eye contact. "Well…"

"Reinard…" Gordon took that stern tone that sounded a lot like her father scolding her when she was a child. The Lieutenant probably was getting practice at home.

"It's not my fault!" She almost leapt out of her chair and help up her hands. "Honest. I got something to eat and was heading home when, well, there was an incident."

Instant worry crossed Gordon's face. Certainly too much like her father for Merla's taste, but she didn't hold it against him. It must have been a trait all good fathers develop. "Incident? Are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine. There was a crime-" Merla paused to cover her mouth and let out a sudden loud cough that had worked its way up her throat. "Sorry. A crime being committed and I happened to come across it." Her fingers worked together nervously. "My dinner didn't survive it."

"Did you get hurt?"

"No, no. The suspect ran off and I called it in. Stayed with the victim until the uniforms and medical showed up. I ah…" Merla's voice dipped sorrowfully but she kept eye contact with Gordon. "I had to draw my gun."

The older man's eyebrows raised in surprise for a moment, then lowered as he understood her discomfort. "It's alright. It's part of the job. You're lucky you didn't actually have to fire it." Merla nodded and felt her eyes sting again as Gordon spoke. "I hope that day never comes. Aiming a gun, especially a loaded one, at a person is hard. Pulling the trigger…" Her Boss went silent and looked out the window. "Well… I hope you'll never have to be put in that position."

Merla silently nodded again and dipped her head. Her head swirled with horrible uncertainty, but she wouldn't have rather confided with anyone else in the world. She tugged at the sleeves of her jacket uncomfortably and didn't feel her usual compulsion to cross her arms over her chest protectively. Gordon was one of the few people she could unequivocally trust.

When her throat didn't feel as terribly dry she spoke up. "I uh… I have to head over to the D.A.'s office tomorrow to go over the Rakov case." Gordon nodded in silence. "Also… I'm not sure when… but I'm going to need a few days off." Gordon raised his eyebrows, faint concern starting to wash over his features. "It's not because of last night. My uh… my folks are coming to Gotham and they'll want to see me."

Her Boss melted into a small smile. Merla felt terribly embarrassed, and turned her head to cover a few loud coughs again.

'_Damn it. I think I'll have to make a huge batch of tea when I get up to the lab.'_ She thought as a faint shiver worked its way up her spine.

After her cold shower and a drive through the early spring weather with wet hair left Merla feeling worse. Her body was just starting to catch up with her brain, and the emotional shock from this morning had distracted whatever was bothering her. Maybe the voice of her mother wasn't the cause of the pain that had formed in the back of her head. Some more tea and a strong dose of Dayquil might do the trick to patch her up.

"You feeling alright?" Gordon questioned while scrutinizing her over his square tortoise glasses.

Merla was a little surprised, but rubbed her nose then pushed her own glasses closer to her eyes. She didn't realize the action drew attention to the fact that her brown eyes seemed a bit dimmer and sunken into bruised sockets. "Yeah, sure Boss. Just a little run down from getting in late last night." As close as she was to Gordon, wasn't ready to divulge about her relationship with her parents much. Her mother and father would probably like the Lieutenant a lot, but she tried to keep the thoughts of New York and Gotham separate these days. It was like the person she was had vanished off the face of the earth, and her parents were the only lingering ties to a missing woman.

"If you need to go home early, do it."

She blinked a few times at Gordon's words, pushing the momentary reprieve from thought. It was as if turning in early was ever an option in her line of work. Merla might not have felt well, but surely she didn't appear so horrible that she was getting called out of the game before her turn at bat. Maybe a few more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt…

_'No.'_ she shook her head to exile such traitorous thoughts. _'Got a back-stabbing thief killing stupid kids to catch, along with any other bile the depths of Gotham churns up today. Work now, safety later.'_

"Don't worry Boss" were her parting words before she left Gordon to his own devices. She made for the lab with a hint of renewed vigor.

* * *

The day progressed slowly. Most of it was spent sorting through finished reports on the massive amount of evidence from the bank robbery. Merla was attempting to reconstruct the crime to gain a better understanding of it. The better a criminal act was unraveled the better the chances of catching and convicting a criminal became. Time consuming, perhaps, but always worth the result. The evidence that was unfinished yesterday just gave her a clearer picture as to what happened, but didn't include any startling new revelations. Evidence of a few other crimes was brought in around Merla's third cup of tea, along with the coroner's belated reports from the latest bank robbery.

The bodies had already been identified yesterday and the only new contents that interested her were details into the C.O.D. Between matching bullets and guns recovered along with fingerprints on bullet casings it all led to the same conclusion. They had each killed one another with only a single missing suspect and bullets from one gun, still out of the picture. Who ever had organized the crime didn't seem to care about using the same gun, thus making it easier to connect all four bank robberies to one man. She pulled up four pages of still photos taken from security cameras and scrutinized her missing link.

He wore a plain dark suit each time, and was roughly around 6 feet tall. Each time he wore the same clown mask while the others donned similar ones. Little could be made out for a psychological profile, so Merla had gone over the tapes to examine his mannerisms better. In each robbery the suspect was quick and had a strange fluidity to his motions. Between watching the tapes and the stacking coroner's reports he was a decent shot, not suffering the slightest hesitation. Once he had even beaten a security guard for not dropping the gun fast enough.

And he never spoke. Not once. He let one of the other men take the lead and do the talking; until he shot them at least. There was something eerie about him she couldn't place her finger on. He enjoyed the mayhem of the moment but was still in control, even when others thought they were in power. The fact he chose a very unassuming being as his persona and calling card was equally disturbing. A joker, or jester, was usually a fool that sometimes held a glint of wisdom. They were ridiculed and wanted to please others. This man wanted to please only himself and inspired fear. Merla had always disliked clowns, anyway.

She put down the pictures with the faint taste of nausea tickling the back of her throat. With a glance at the clock she realized it was already past lunch, thus why her body was trying to distract her mind and get sustenance. She still hadn't called her parents yet, but that could wait until the evening. Merla organized her files and put them away, mentally making a note to print copies of any new information later. Crime would always lie in wait for her, ever patient while she rushed through another aspect of being human. After an uninspired lunch of pizza and orange juice (she hoped the extra vitamin C would deal with whatever was ailing her) crime unfurled its tendrils and accepted Merla back into a bleak embrace. She fought the best way she could: with her mind.

Hours dragged as fatigue and a medicated haze started to settle on her. Hours spent searching for Roland Edelstein was becoming a fruitless endeavor. There was no record of him after his disappearance, and Gordon still didn't have the man power to send detectives poking around a possible dead end. Merla felt her body just want to sleep an empty, dreamless sleep and it was starting to win. Her chest felt heavy and clogged; creating a nasty cough that was making her feel even worse. The thought of switching on the flood light so Merla could just shove the file into Batman's arms was a teasing notion.

The best she could do for the Bat was make a list of any known contacts Edelstein had in the past, stuffed with information ranging from criminal records to listed addresses. Copies were made and carefully hidden in her trusted brown jacket that she carried up to Gordon's office. The thought of dealing with the Batman again wasn't a pleasant one for Merla, and her Boss had a better rapport with him anyway.

Her heart sunk at the sight of the Lieutenant's door shut and the lights in the office cold and dark. The bullpen was also nearly empty as well. Merla fingered the cuff of her jacket sleeve idly and turned to a lumpy detective, Wuertz, who looked far too relaxed at his desk for a police officer.

"Wuertz, the Lieutenant in the building?" She glanced at him sideways, purposely avoiding eye contact. Merla didn't like him. Something about the older man always made the nape of her neck tingle uneasily. With the added discomfort from her illness produced a desire to depart from his presence even faster than usual.

"He's downtown, takin' care of sumthin." The detective turned over a page on a report that barely held his interest.

She knew asking for more information was akin to poking a very tired hippopotamus with a stick. Yes, they're lazy and appear very unthreatening, but angering one would be the last thing you would ever accomplish. Merla settled for saying, "Hrrm. Thanks."

"Whatever." Wuertz muttered in a quiet voice.

Leaving the bullpen behind for a windowed hallway, Merla wiped out her cell phone and hit the only number on speed dial as she watched for anyone that could overhear. After a few rings it picked up.

"Gordon."

"Boss, I have the information for… the big guy." That was ambiguous enough she hoped. It could be taken as the Commissioner or the Batman to prying ears. "I'll slip it under your door so you can pass it on later."

A sigh slipped from the earpiece. Merla thought she heard sirens in the background. "Anything new on the case, Fontanie?"

"Little." Her eyes trailed out the window and watched as a few drops of rain started to lightly splatter on the glass against the dark cityscape. "As you know I dug up some more on Edelstein's past contacts. Thought he might want a look since we can't."

"Sounds good. Look, I'm tied up at the moment with a possible mob hit. You make the delivery."

Merla froze in place and nearly dropped her phone. Her muscles cried out from the sudden tension she had drawn them into unconsciously. Willing her body to relax she spoke up. "You sure, Boss? He'd rather hear from you, I'd think."

"I trust you. And I know he won't do anything."

"Comforting words, Boss." Muttered words passed Merla's lips as she pressed her forehead to cool glass.

There was a gentle chuckle from Gordon. "Afterwards you get yourself home, kid. If I find you at MCU when I get back I'll have you escorted from the building."

"I guess that means I'm holding it in until I get home." She teased, tension leaving her body they slipped into familiar banter.

"See you tomorrow, Reinard."

"See ya Boss."

The cell phone audibly clicked as she closed it, audibly resonating with her anger. _'Another damn meeting with the Batman. The D.A.'s office tomorrow. Have to be a witness to another case god knows when.'_ She muttered in the dark reaches of her mind while heading for the access stairs to the roof. _'And I still have to call my mother. Fate is either very busy planning something or just playing games my head. Just because I appreciated a person's actions didn't mean that I want to socialize with them.'_

That last thought gave her pause, one foot in midair to land on the next step. _'Well that was odd. I'm hardly sociable with anyone now, and I sure as hell wouldn't call giving a masked vigilante police records socializing.'_ Merla shook her head and resumed her climb up the stairs. _'I must be sick. Boss is right, I need more sleep.'_

Once out in the open air Merla let out a steady breath and shivered. It was chilly out and her legs felt weak after the climb, which was unusual since she tried to stay in shape. She glanced at her watch and hoped she could stay awake long enough at her apartment to order and eat something delivered. Waiting around for the Batman would consume an indeterminate amount of time.

_'He'd better hurry.'_ She fumed while flipping the power switch carefully. The rain was starting to fall faster now and she covered her hand with the leather sleeve of her jacket to avoid the electric current. _'I hate having to wait as it is, let alone on an empty stomach.'_

The beam of light hummed to life, with drops of rain catching in its path and making the illusion of a solid shape. Taking the same position as before, Merla huddled her arms around herself to fight the oncoming cold of a wet Gotham night. It was tragically beautiful, but the wetness clinging to her face and causing her hair to stick made the night difficult to appreciate. Gotham twinkled around her despite the gloom, a strange reminder of what she worked to protect every day. A tickle in her chest every now and then would force a cough from her lips and reminding her of her weakened condition. The echoing sound would temporarily break the bewitching spell only a city at night cast on her.

He came again, just as silent as before. Only now, Merla wasn't straining her ears to try and hear him. Between sudden coughs and faint shivering anything short of a heavy metal door slamming shut would have passed unnoticed. His voice pierced the darkness.

"Where's Gordon?"

A shiver produced stronger than the last few as she turned to face the Batman. Even with the water speckling her glasses she could still make out the dark outline that ended in a turbulent darkness. Through the rain she couldn't see his piercing gaze, but somehow could still feel the faint traces of it. She regained her composure to some degree and started to step towards him.

"Busy. Possible mob hit." Merla covered her mouth and let out a cough before continuing. "Guess you'll have to put up with me tonight."

He said nothing, and somehow it bothered her. She had a shit load to wrap her mind around and had no choice but to stand out in the rain waiting for him. After the Batman stared at her silently, Merla sighed and gave in. She unzipped her jacket and pulled out the file she made for him.

"Still can't find much on Edelstein. Files on people he dealt with before are inside, along with coroner's reports and more evidence from the scene. A few notes too." Her legs still ached slightly as she walked towards him, holding out the file. When she got close enough he accepted it silently.

"I hope you did better than me. Don't have enough men to track him down. Too small a loose end." Merla pushed wet strands stuck to her forehead out of her face and let her hand linger there. The rain was making everything worse inside and out. Another cough escaped from her.

That gravely voice surprised her again. "What's wrong?"

She just blinked stupidly at that. _'What? Did he just ask that?'_ was really the only thoughts her brain could form before her pessimism caught up. _'Everything's wrong. There's too much crime, too much decay in this city. There aren't enough people fighting and I can't work hard enough to get more results.'_

The rain pattered around them still. Time started to shift into an odd mutation of the present; one that Merla felt was almost dream like. A strange disconnected feeling as though her brain and body were no longer together, and everything around her was something from a play rather than her life. She shook her head slowly to pull reality back to her.

"Just gotta get home…" was all she could say.

Turning for the door, she suddenly felt whatever hold she had on the physical world slip away and her weak legs buckled. _'That's odd…'_ echoed in her head when she started to see the roof rush towards her. It halted and she dangled in the air, a strong vise holding her upper arm. She glanced backwards and saw wrapped around her bicep black gloved fingers connected to a very tall man. A very tall man in black who was looking down at her with hidden eyes.

"You're ill."

Merla raised her eyebrows a bit. She knew she was coming down with something, that's why she was going home. Stating the obvious didn't change anything. "So?" Another heavy cough from deep in her chest. "I'll go home. Eat. Sleep." Trying to stand up straight and pull herself from his grasp was proving difficult, and her body didn't give as much response as she wanted. All Merla could manage was twisting enough to turn and face the dark crusader.

The Batman growled in his throat and grabbed her by both arms now. "You can barely walk. You're going to a hospital."

That sent alarm bells off in Merla's brain. Even in the disconnection with the moment she knew that was the last place she wanted to go. "No. NO. I'm going home." A surge of energy coursed through her, still not carrying her to prime condition but certainly up the ladder. She struggled and pushed her hands against hard black material that covered the Batman's chest.

Of course, it was futile. Arms clamped around her and held her solidly in place against his body. She gave in and felt her feet slip, but he still held her in place without a single emotion on his face. Her body trembled; part in fear and part from whatever disease was coursing through her body and intensifying the cold.

Merla leaned her head back, gazing up to the only exposed flesh of the shadowy vigilante. In her eyes it was the only part that was undeniably human along with his stoic gaze. The reflected illumination from the flood light allowed her to see more details of the Batman now that she was so close to him. She implored with this tiny facet of him, "Please. Not there."

In his eyes there was a hint of some emotion she couldn't place. He gazed down at her and held her close, and Merla swore she could feel the faintest trace of bodily warmth emanating through hard black material. Darkness crawled around the edges of her vision while her eyes felt heavier and heavier. Her last conscious thought was noticing how much green was hidden in his dark eyes.

* * *

**A/N**_: First off: Yes, I know Christian Bale looks like he has brown eyes in the movie. While they mostly are brown they're actually green, you can look it up. Just so you know, green is a varient of brown. You can look that up too. ^_^_

_Okay, that aside, now we learn more about Merla. Finally! Wuertz made an appearance too, and the Bat is back! You might be upset for me leaving the story there, but I had to. Sorry! There was just so much and I couldn't cut it off early. It's about a thousand and a half words more than the last chapter, so that should make up for it, right? Right?? Also, my insert came to 15 pages and is now officially inside the original document of this story. Yay! However, I only have around six unposted pages left, so I don't know when the next update is. I'm going to try and shell it out as best I can and not rush it, but if I keep a good pace I won't leave you hanging long. _

_Keep reviewing, because I love feedback. You guys are the best!_

_P.S. Updated and fixed 11/24/08_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **_To commemorate the release of The Dark Knight on DVD and Blu-Ray, here's the latest chapter! Sorry for the delay, but between feeling under the weather and life getting a little hectic I was pressed for time. I would like to thank you for bearing with the writing errors (that have been seen to!) in my past chapter. I also found alot of source material to play with on the Bonus Materials in The Dark Knight, as well as poking around the viral marketing that was done for the movie. Let's hope I get the next chapter done before they re-release The Dark Knight in movies theaters!!_

* * *

While every man might once fantasize about catching a fainting damsel in distress, Bruce was only surprised by his sudden predicament. That and he had a suspicion Merla Reinard would maim someone that referred to her as any sort of damsel. The rain continued to fall around the two figures on the roof of MCU. Mentally sighing, Batman lifted the young woman into his arms. For an intense person she was rather small and fit easily in his grasp; her height probably just barely exceeded over 5'3". Gripping her wet form close, he used his foot to switch off the flood light before moving to the edge of the building. Watching the slow, steady beat of life on Gotham's streets, the Batman wracked his brain. How was he going to glide off the roof of a five-story building while carrying someone?

Shifting Merla around, he wrapped one edge of his cape around his left arm and wrapped it firmly around her waist. His right hand gripped the other edge of his cape to extend the fabric outwards once he launched himself.

_'This had better work, or Batman is going to meet a rather humiliating end.'_ Bruce thought wryly as he glanced between an unconscious Merla and a foreboding Gotham.

And with a held breath he leapt into the rainy night, gliding in an awkward spiral. The material of his cape tightened against the arm it wrapped around, causing him to bite back a groan. Descending far more rapidly than normal, they touched down in an alley along side MCU. Reorienting Merla in his arms, the Batman carried her to the waiting Tumbler. With a touch from the controller procured from his belt and the vehicle slid open for its driver and passenger. Batman gently eased Merla into the seat, buckling her in securely before settling into the driver's seat. The Tumbler hissed as it closed and growled to life before launching into the streets of Gotham.

* * *

Speeding into the inky night light by street lamps created a shifting palette of light and dark on the two inside the dark vehicle. Flickering colors danced behind Merla's eyes disrupted her unwilling slumber. Her mind still reeling, it took time for her to come to the realization of several new facts: she wasn't standing any more, she wasn't in the rain any longer, she couldn't really move, and she was fairly certain she wasn't on the roof of MCU any longer. It took a supreme amount of effort on Merla's part but she managed to open her eyes slightly. She must have unknowingly uttered a groan because a rough voice whispered close to her left.

"You passed out. I'm taking you home."

Her head rolled slightly to the side. It was dark but a faint, sporadic burst of light from outside would dimly light… wherever the hell they were. "Mmf. Fine. I guess… know where I live." Damn it was hard to talk. Merla felt her head pounding from the inside; she winced to try and banish the pain.

"Yes" was all he said.

"…F…file." She felt her heart speed up suddenly in fear while she remembered the damn file she had made for the Batman.

"It's safe. Relax." He practically snapped at her, glancing between the road ahead and a small computer screen on the console.

Merla made a sound of disgust under her breath and muttered, "Yeah, yeah..." She felt less intimidated by him when her mind was drowned in disorientation.

There was a heavy silence between them for a while. Merla hated it. The more she tried to grasp control of what was going on the further it slipped away. Holding her forehead she struggled to process her brain. A fleeting thought popped into her mind.

"Edelstein…" She looked over to the Batman, leaning further back into the strange seat she was in. "…Find him?"

The dark figure continued his silence for a while before answering in his raspy tone. "Not yet."

Eyes growing heavier, Merla felt her last bit of strength leave her. "Mmm. Need next link…" And her mind plunged into darkness once more.

* * *

Merla Reinard's apartment was in an older section of Gotham. Not a particularly pleasant area, but still a far cry from the horrors of the Narrows. Old brick buildings lined in a row made distinguishing one from another a difficult task in the dark. It wasn't too much trouble for the Batman with the help of the satellite system in the Tumbler. Concealing the massive vehicle would prove more complicated matter, but the back of her building inhabited by odorous dumpsters proved useful. The rain had offered a small measure of obscurity for the duration of the ride, but now the air had thinned out into a fine mist. Hissing open audibly, the dark figure exited the Tumbler into the hazy night with the young woman in his arms once more.

Grasping the stubborn woman firmly with one hand, the Batman drew his grappling hook with his other. With a squeeze of the trigger it jetted upwards, latched onto the roof and pulled the two up the apartment building's side. It wasn't long before Batman carried Merla inside and located the correct apartment. He picked the lock quickly and effectively, carrying the sleeping tenant into her home. When the door silently shut, none of the residents were the wiser to the masked vigilante and their unconscious neighbor that he carried.

Not bothering with turning on the lights, Batman carried her into the bedroom and set the unmoving woman down carefully on the sheets of her bed. The light from the streetlamps outside slightly lit the room in a faint orange-yellow glow. This illuminated the slumbering Merla faintly. He reached down and removed her belt to pull her holster off her supine form. She was already uncomfortable enough, and he doubted sleeping with a gun digging into her side would make her feel much better. Merla looked oddly content in her sleep, even if she still had a sickly pallor at the moment.

He slowly surveyed around her sparse bedroom. While Bruce was loath to go through a person's belongings, Batman needed to know more about Merla and see if she was trustworthy. She had already proven her willingness to work with him, but he had to be certain. His online search hadn't turned up much on her inside of Gotham, and nothing had been gleamed so far on a wider search. Even with a top of the line computer he needed an idea of where to start looking. Merla's living quarters would be the perfect place to start.

Although where to being? In fact, the apartment was incredibly sparse, especially for a woman. Her nightstand only had a lone lamp and the wooden dresser was barren save for a few scuff marks on the surface. The walls were a bland white and the only color in the room was a pair of paintings by some unknown artists. The bare surroundings reflected an empty, lonely life. It was a painfully familiar sensation that resonated with Bruce, and he sympathized with Merla for it.

While the bed room was the optimal place to search for personal information, he couldn't risk waking the resident that slept nearby. However, the rest of the apartment would provide little else into Batman's investigation of Ms. Reinard. In the living room he found a meager television and DVD player sat against the wall on top of a wooden storage unit, probably containing DVDs. Next to it was a small stereo unit with an iPod plugged in that had a faint layer of dust forming on it. A soft, worn couch sat against one wall; the faded blue of the fabric was the only true bit of color in the room. Even an empty glass vase on a small wooden end table furthered the sullen portrait of Merla Reinard's life.

What truly stood out was the amount of books Merla owned. Bookshelves filled what little spare space the meager apartment walls could provide. It was a strange mixture: forensic textbooks, books on scientific theory, collections of famous painters and photographers, history books on ancient cultures, an entire leather bound collection of the works of Agatha Christie, Tolkien's books, Stephen Hawking, Douglas Adams, Edgar Allen Poe, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Gregory Maguire.

_'Certainly an interesting and diverse mix'_ he thought while running gloved fingers over a few titles.

The rest of the apartment proved fruitless. All the mail consisted of bills and advertisements. Even the kitchen was horribly bare. It was more like a rented hotel room than a person's home. Another familiar pang filled Bruce. Not so long ago he had a hard time accepting the idea of Wayne manor being his house and not his father's. Even now he rarely used his penthouse. The bed was mostly unused and sleep found him more often at his office in Wayne Industries than at his comfortable mattress.

But Batman still needed answers, so he returned to the bedroom for a more thorough search. Upon reentering the bedroom he made a slow, calculating search of the room from the doorway. Merla had curled up onto her side with her back to him and breathed easily. Watching her for any stirring in her movement, he looked closer to the scuff marks on the dresser. They were small and evenly spaced, like two edges had been drawn over the surface roughly. Gloved fingers ran over the marks, tracing their movement. He followed the path and noticed a glint of metal from the corner of his eye.

A silver picture frame had been shoved onto the floor. He bent and retrieved it, but was unable to clearly distinguish the photograph inside in the dark. Stepping towards the window, he used the outside light to find a strange image. There was Merla Reinard, or at the least, someone who looked a great deal like Merla stood with an older couple. She was more filled out, actually rather shapely like women were meant to be. Her skin was still pale but a great deal healthier than her current form, and her glasses were gone. The greatest change was she was smiling, a _real _smile. The only true similarity was her intense eyes, only now they shined brightly with joy. The Brooklyn Bridge was behind them with its signature brick arches off in the distance. That was the information on her he needed, and Batman's mind clicked into place.

'_So that's where she was from, New York. She doesn't have one of the more distinct accents, but the personality makes sense. But if she was so happy there, why trade one crime filled city for another? Why leave a life and family behind?'_

"That was almost three years ago" a soft voice spoke behind him. Batman turned, seeing a half-awake Merla gazing up at him with an unreadable expression. He said nothing, but she continued anyway. "There's a small park on the Brooklyn side. 's nice place. See almost the whole east side from there."

Batman looked down at the photo. It was a scenic spot that showed the beauty of the old city. Even if New York could be just as dark and corrupt as Gotham, all traces were wiped away by the happiness of the captured moment. "You left."

"Mmhmm." She snuggled the side of her face deeper into her pillow.

He looked up at her. It needed to be asked. "Why?"

The change in Merla's eyes was noticeable, even in the dark. She stayed silent, her only body movement the rhythmic rise and fall with each breath.

"Why do you do what you do?" She snapped back in a cold, low voice. There was a heavy pause before she continued. "It's the same for me, to ask such a question. Because it _defines_ us. Because it's a hard choice but a choice we have to make. We have to, and there is nothing else or…" she stopped again, her eyes now heavy with sadness and drifting from his. "…Or we are left empty."

Neither Bruce nor Batman had anything to say to that, because she was right. It was equally personal and indefinable, yet without it they were never the same. And Merla was right to shame him in asking something like that. Perhaps he shouldn't have asked such a question, but he needed to know. Even now, or maybe even more so, he needed the answer to his question. He would find out eventually, either through research or her own words when she trusted him. Batman doubted the latter would come first, if at all.

Silently setting down the frame on her nightstand, he loomed over her bed and gazed down at the young woman. He spoke softly, yet had to force the rasp over it to ensure the protection of his identity.

"I'm sorry."

Merla looked down and held her pillow tightly. "'s alright. You didn't know." She looked up a bit with a faint smirk. "'sides… I shouldn't be mad. You brought me home."

Bruce held back a smirk. "Sleep. You need rest."

She complied, probably too tired and too sick to entertain the notion of fighting him. Her body squirmed on the bed as she shrugged off her jacket before curling up in bed. The Batman opened her window to slip off into the night.

"Stay safe." Merla whispered as conscious thought started to slip away. "Need you."

Those words gave him pause, but he said nothing. With fluid motion he stepped onto the fire escape, slid the window shut, and vanished into the darkness. Bruce felt his heart twist inside, but Batman had to ignore it. The pounding in his ears, however, took some time to subside. Even if it was to express how the police department warranted his assistance, the effect was still profound. It had been a long time, if ever, since someone said those words to him.

* * *

Batman had a productive night. Even with all of his hard work, even with change starting to happen, there was always some horror occurring on the streets of Gotham. Neither Bruce nor Batman was fazed by this; their fight was a necessity to make sure the darkness didn't consume his city. It was only a few hours since he had left Merla Reinard's apartment and he had already stopped a mugging and dealt with a couple of drug pushers. All the more filth was getting swept into the prison system for a few years.

Merla had the potential to be a valuable asset to his fight, along with Jim Gordon. While Bruce's knowledge in forensic science was far from lacking, it was helpful to have someone else handling that work while Batman was out pounding the pavement. Inspiring fear into the agents of corruption wasn't enough anymore; Batman needed to inspire good as well. More people of Gotham had to fight back the darkness that swelled in their life as well as in their hearts.

But now was not the time to reflect, but a time of action. Roland Edelstein had proved illusive in his search, but no one can disappear. There was a time he tried to as Bruce Wayne, and in the end the League of Shadows still found him. It was doubtful that Edelstein had been as careful as Bruce, or ran quite as far. A petty criminal with a rap sheet this long would probably not even leave the city. Edelstein had a great deal of loose ends in his life that would reveal his hiding place.

Using the information Merla had produced as a guide, Batman sought out his first quarry: another career criminal by the name of Diggory Lester. His rap sheet consisted of a long list of various crimes and usually consisted of some form of theft. It also looked like he had a gambling problem, which probably resulted in him committing more crimes to pay off his debts. Finding Lester was very easy since he was a creature of habit. Like all addicts, he needed to feed his compulsion.

He was found this night outside one of Maroni's underground gambling dens. He was trying to convince an uninterested bouncer to allow him in. Lester insisted he was "good for it" and would make back the money he owed before the night was through. Eventually the gambler gave up his attempt at persuasion with slumped shoulders and shuffled down a nearby alley. He didn't notice the trap the Batman had set for him until he was dangling upside down in the air from seven stories up. Lester could only howl and shriek as a response.

Batman snarled and gripped the terrified man by his short, greasy hair. "Where's Edelstein?!"

Lester's eyes swiveled around inside his skull. "Wha- huh- w-who??" He squirmed in panic and continued to stutter.

The dark figure was not amused. He growled in frustration and allowed the petty crook to fall five stories before stopping. The mechanism stopping his fall whirred as it yanked a dangling Lester forcibly upwards. The criminal now had a rather large stain on his pants now. Batman fumed and sneered in disgust.

"No games. Where is Edelstein?!?" The masked man demanded, rage evident in his voice.

"I… I- I dunno! I- I swear!" Tears and mucus mingled as they trailed over Lester's upside-down face. He hiccupped and sobbed.

His tormentor only roared, "Then what DO you know?!"

"I… h-he… he stopped by… a… a while back." The criminal's face scrunched in thought, trying to process his brain over the terror seeping through his bones. "S… Said he got in- inta' somethin' heavy. N-needed some cash. I- I didn't have any…" Lester blinked rapidly to dispel the overwhelming dampness gathering in his eyes. "T- told him 'bout a g- guy I know. Buys any- anything… no questions!!"

Batman grabbed him by the collar and gave the trembling Lester another jolt. "Who?! WHERE?!"

"G- guy by the name Gerry. Works outta- outta a white van… pa- parking garage offa 47th and Madden!"

And again he plummeted when his interrogator had enough. He blissfully slowed down before reaching the ground, suspended above blessed earth by a few inches. Whatever had grasped Lester by the leg at the start of the encounter released and he now collided with the pavement. The quivering petty criminal just gazed into the cloudy night sky, pondering the value of him giving up his dependency on gambling. Batman left him to his shock and passed over the rooftops a silent shade of the night.

* * *

Gerry, a man with dark skin and slightly bulbous belly, leaned against his white van while enjoying a drag off his cigarette. The traveling arsenal lay in wait for any potential customer interested in his deadly wares or wanting to get a hot piece off their hands. A pair of eyes watched the arms dealer from a distance with great interest, but not from the desire to procure an illegal weapon. The wandering vigilante found the perfect vantage point after scaling a nearby building, and now watched his target with wrathful eyes. He waited until the street was empty, save for Gerry drawing deep breaths from his cancer stick.

Batman leapt into the air. Blending into the darkness the evening provided, Gerry had no suspicions towards his observations. The arms dealer was busy thinking about how he could provide weapons to the Russians on the side as well as the Italians when a heavy weight landed on the roof of his van. Gerry didn't have much time to react beyond his cigarette falling from his lips as a masked man grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him upwards. Before the criminal could reach for his own weapon he found himself flung backwards onto the sidewalk. His head collided with concrete and made a resounding crack.

When Gerry could next form a conscious thought, it was followed by pain once more. Batman was crouching over him, one knee putting pressure on his solar plexus and forcing the air out of Gerry's lungs. As Batman removed the gun from the arms dealer's waistband the quivering man beneath him groaned and let out a string of startled curses.

"Shut up." The dark figure growled. Gerry complied. "Roland Edelstein sold you a gun. Who bought it?"

"W- who? F-fuck man- I dunno all the little fishies I buy from. Damn…"

"Wrong answer." Batman grabbed the squirming worm by his head and slammed the back of his skull into the pavement. He was careful not to be too forceful; an unconscious criminal was useless for interrogation.

Gerry groaned in pain. "FUCK! God dammit…" He shirked backwards as much as his movement would allow as his interrogator drew back a fist. "Wait! Wait! Edelstein! Scrawny small time little white boy, right? Sold me his piece few weeks back 'cause he needed the cash!"

Batman grabbed Gerry by his worn jersey and lifted him so his head dangled above the sidewalk. "Who bought it?!"

The arms dealer visibly shuddered in recollection. "Freak man… bought a bunch of guns. Some boom toys too. Man fuckin' bat shi-" he paused and rethought his words even though his head was swimming in pain. "Fuckin loon." He grimaced, his blood staining his teeth a bit. "Mutha fucka make you look **tame**."

His response was a fist colliding with his jaw and making an audible crunch. Gerry howled in agony and fell back against the cement, tears streaking down from the corners of his eyes. The Batman lifted the sobbing criminal by the jersey again and bellowed in rage.

"Who?? Where is he?!"

"F- Fuck man… d- dunno…" Gerry's head lobbed side to side in a feeble attempt to shake his head. Blood and saliva bubbled down his chin as he tried to speak. "Freak never gave his name… just a fuckin' playin' card. Always paid in green."

The dark crusader gritted his teeth. Eyes bright with malice he leaned in close to the arms dealer and slowly ground out, "Where. Can. I. Find. **Him**."

Gerry's eyes went wider as he recoiled from the ferocious figure. "I swear man!" He howled while squirming under the added pressure Batman applied to his lungs. "I dun fuckin know!" The arms dealer writhed and flailed. "The-the warehouse district!! I dunno where but I hear he-he-he usually there sumwhere!!"

That was all the vigilante was going to get from this particular worm. Batman stood up over the pathetic, cowering criminal and watched the man take large gulps of air. As Gerry tried to physically recover the dark figure scooped up the discarded weapon. The battered arms dealer watched while Batman removed the clip from the handgun and then closed his fist over the barrel. Metal groaned under the clenched hand. When the handgun was released it clattered to the sidewalk, but now the barrel was bent rendering the weapon inoperable. Gerry choked in shock at the sight of twisted steel and gazed up to the vigilante with frightened awe. A faint whimper escaped the criminal's lips as the Batman's shadow fell over him.

The arms dealer was later found by police via an anonymous tip. Gerry, disheveled and bloody, was unconscious and handcuffed to a dimming streetlamp. His white van sat, unmoved, but also damaged. One of the back doors now dangled from its hinges, while the other had been ripped off completely. The contents of the van now sat exposed to the night air. Inside ranged from handguns, C4 explosives, to a few AK-47 assault rifles.

The first two police officers on the scene were beyond surprised upon their arrival. Until now they had only heard stories from fellow officers about the result of the Batman's work. What they found was certainly shocking, and terribly unbelievable. How could a man rip through solid metal, let alone take down a wanted arms dealer single handedly? One of the officers stepped past the vehicle to examine the unconscious suspect. The other stood before the ravaged van in awe. He let out a slow whistle and grinned to his partner.

"Hey, remind me never to piss of the Batman."

* * *

The sun shone over Merla's eyes, forcing her awake. She scrunched her face in displeasure and tried to lift her head. That action proved too strenuous and caused the inside of her head to swirl. Merla's head collided with the pillow as she settled for rolling onto her side instead. This caused something to dig sharply into her hip, her eyes opening from the sudden pain. A growl formed in the back of her throat as she flopped onto her back once more, squirming away from the morning sunlight.

Looking around her bedroom, Merla realized her typical morning blurriness was replaced with startling clarity. Pressing a limp hand to her face revealed that her glasses were currently present on her face. That wasn't something she commonly woke to, neither being fully dressed in bed with shoes and all. Last night started catching up to her as her brain started its slow process. It was then her cheeks colored in embarrassment when she realized just who had put her in bed.

Shaking the thought from her mind, Merla let out a long yawn which ended with a few coughs. Her body still hadn't fully recovered yet. She fished around her pockets to find the offensive item that had burrowed into her side. Fumbling with a bulky object in her jacket pocket, the sleepy criminalist found the culprit. She glared at the cell phone disdainfully before flipping it over. When she saw the time, Merla's face blanched.

It was already a quarter past 8 o'clock. She had 45 minutes to get to the D.A.'s office. Merla scrambled out of her bed, her feet momentarily getting trapped in the bedsheets. Audibly cursing as she kicked the linens to the ground, the young woman struggled to regain composure. Her brain strained to analyze the situation rationally.

There was limited time. Sick or not, Merla was not one to allow distractions in her life. Her daily schedule would just have to suffer for the proper adjustments. Showering was out, but she could wash herself at the sink quickly. If she started boiling water now she should be able to fill a thermos with tea for the road. A few fruits could hold her appetite until she could eat a meal. Showing up in day old clothes was not the best way to make a good first impression (even if it was just some assistant district attorney) so she'd have to change her clothes quickly.

Merla hurried into her small kitchen and turned on one of the stove's burners. The kettle was haphazardly filled with water and dumped onto stovetop. Rushing back into her bedroom, the frenzied criminalist shrugged out of her jacket while tugging at the laces of her boots. Her feet freed from its confines, Merla shoved off her jacket onto the floor. It collided with solid wood and made a forlorn jingling sound. Her body froze at the metallic sound.

'_Oh no. My car.'_ Merla felt her head lighten and nearly stumbled in realization. _'Batman brought me home.'_ Her hands rose to sides of her head, fingers digging into her scalp as she struggled to steady herself. _'That means my car is back- oh damn it all why does this have to happen?'_

Checking her wallet she quickly counted up the cash inside. Taxis were fast but could get annoyingly expensive. The little money Merla had on her might not be enough for two fares. She sighed and dropped her wallet onto her mattress. Now was a rare moment Merla wished she didn't have such a hard time getting close to people. The only person in the entire city she felt confident enough to ask was Gordon, but he was certainly busy by this hour. The young woman was also adamant about not having a patrol car pick her up just for a quick ride downtown.

That left her Boss as the only option. If he couldn't get to her then she'd take one taxi to the D.A.'s office. That left Merla to walk over to MCU for her car, which probably wouldn't help her ill condition. The young woman picked up her cell phone with great reservation, hating to resign her dependency on someone else.

Two rings later and a familiar voice spoke up. "Gordon here."

"Boss." Merla let out a heavy sigh, her teeth digging into her lower lip. "I uh…" She gave in and just got to the point. "I need a ride."

The Lieutenant chuckled. He probably was holding back the urge to tease her. "I wondered why your car was still here but not you."

The young woman leaned her head against the wall, wincing slightly. "Yeah. I got sick last night. Still am. Someone drove me home."

"Dare I ask who they are and why they can't drive you now?"

"You probably don't want to know."

"Hmmm." Gordon sighed and sounded regretful. "Well I can't leave here. You know that better than anyone."

"I know. I **know**." She was silent for a moment before whispering in a broken voice. "I don't have anyone else to ask."

A thoughtful silence on her Boss' end. "Well… I think I know someone who wouldn't mind. On one condition."

"Oh great."

"Check yourself in to a doctor." Gordon said seriously. "I know you won't on your own. And if you show up inside MCU today I'll have you escorted from the premises. Besides, I know a good doctor under our insurance."

Her initial response was the bang her head lightly against her bedroom wall. The Lieutenant was turning into a surrogate father more by the day. Maybe that extra time with his family was influencing him too much. "Fine."

"Good. Babs is free today so I'll call her up."

"Wait. You're asking your _wife_ to pick me up?"

"Watch it missy. Besides, she's been bugging me to introduce you." Merla could hear the grin in his voice. "That and she's the only person I can trust to drag you to the doctor's."

The young woman closed her eyes and shook her head. "Boss, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to adopt me."

"Eh. You need family out here anyway." He said dismissively. "I'll give Barbara your number and address."

"I have to be at the D.A.'s by 9."  
"Then you'd better get moving, shouldn't you?"

"Yessir. And Boss-" Merla smiled faintly. "Thank you."

"See you Reinard."

"See ya Boss."

* * *

After a rushed and abbreviated morning routine Merla Reinard was outside her apartment in record time. Flying down the stairs while sipping on her thermos of peppermint tea, she started to feel slightly optimistic about getting to the D.A.'s office on time. Oranges that she had stuffed into her jacket pocket banged against her left side as she carefully maneuver the steps without falling. Finally reaching the lobby, she felt a sigh of relief escape her lips. The cold air pounded into Merla as she exited the building at 8:28.

When she reached the street panic quickly set in. There were a few parked cars out front, but none of them idling in wait for her. Shoving her thermos into the empty, oversized pocket of her jacket, she then pulled her cell phone out and flipped it open. No missed calls. Mrs. Gordon hadn't arrived or tried to reach her. In truth, Merla had no idea how far the Gordons lived from her. She started gnawing faintly on the inside of her cheek, all the while hoping that Barbara didn't have to rush across the entire city just to pick her up. Having your boss's wife speed through Gotham traffic so that one might get to their meeting on time was not a good career choice.

The faint noise of tires faintly squealing sounded in the distance, causing Merla to look up. A blue Subaru Forester took a turn into the apartment development and screeched to a halt a few feet away from the young woman. The driver lowered the passenger side window and leaned forwards. Behind the wheel was an attractive middle-aged woman with short brown hair that swept in a graceful mess around her face.

The older woman raised her eyebrows and inquired, "Merla?"

She smiled a bit at her name. "Yes. Nice to meet you Mrs. Gordon."

Barbara Gordon snorted a bit and gave a slight grin. "No need for formalities. Call me Barbara. C'mon, get in. We have downtown traffic to beat."

Merla quickly obliged and climbed into the Subaru without any hesitation. She barely had time to shut the door before Barbara switched the car into drive and sped off. As the young woman scrambled to put on her seat belt and stop her thermos from spilling over the car seat, the driver continued to speak.

"Sorry if I'm a little late. Jim didn't give me much heads up."

"Uh… it's okay. Really." Merla managed to find her seat belt and secure it into place as the vehicle rushed around a corner. "I should be the one apologizing. I hate having to inconvenience you or Boss."

The female Gordon tore her eyes from the road for a second. "Boss?" Something clicked in her brain as she looked back to the road. A chuckled escaped from her. "Oh, you mean Jim. He mentioned you calling him that a few times. Any particular reason for that nickname?"

Merla withdrew her thermos and tried to carefully uncover it as the blue Subaru slid between lanes of traffic. "Um, well, it started when we were back at the last precinct. He was one of the few detectives really committed to fighting crime at the time." Barbara smiled softly and let her continue. "I really admired that. When he needed something in evidence I worked harder and always put his cases first. So, when he would ask for something, I would say "You're the boss." It kinda stuck, especially since now he _is_ my boss."

The older woman nodded as she sped through a yellow light. "Yep. That sounds like Jim. And don't worry; you're not inconveniencing either of us." Barbara let out a grin. "I needed an excuse to finally meet you anyway. Jim mentions you a lot, especially the times you force him home early. You know you can always stop by our house."

The criminalist blushed behind her thermos as she took a sip from it. "That's okay… I don't want to trouble you. Besides, work keeps me busy. I don't have much time for a personal life."

That earned a snort. "Nonsense. It wouldn't be any trouble. Jim makes time for me and the kids so you can't be that busy."

Merla sighed a bit. She didn't really know anyone in Gotham except for Gordon. However, he seemed more part of her work life than her personal life. Well, what went for a personal life anyway. When she worked, she concentrated on that and didn't have time to socialize. Not that some of her co-workers had the same sort of professional attitude, which further drove her away from any unnecessary interaction. Most seemed too wrapped up in themselves or the shallow aspects of life. Overhearing the catty gossip of her female co-workers just made Merla roll her eyes and leave the vicinity as quickly as possible. Maybe having a woman she could talk to, other than her mother, would be a good thing.

"Sure," she said softly, having a hard time putting a sense of conviction into her voice. "I guess so. That would be nice."

Barbara smiled warmly, a smile that made Merla think of her mother. That set off the reminder that she _still_ had to call her and was certainly going to receive hell. The young woman held her head and chuckled, imagining the conversation they were going to have. Or rather, the lecture Merla would be on the receiving end of. She couldn't stifle a groan at that particular prospect.

"You alright?" The older woman asked as they stopped at a red light. "Jim mentioned you were sick. Maybe I should just take you to the doctor…"

Merla lifted her head. "No, I mean, yes I am sick but it's not that bad. You made me remember something."

Barbara arched her eyebrows. "I made you remember something? Something unpleasant I'm guessing." She smirked and shook her head. "Well glad to be of help."

"I have to call my mother" the young woman confessed. "And I put it off for a couple of days."

"Ah. Well speaking as a mother on her behalf I'm very disappointed in you." The mother of two grinned and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

Merla groaned and sunk into her seat a bit. "Just let me douse my head in hot tea while you admonish me."

Barbara laughed whole-heartedly as the light turned green. The vehicle lurched forwards and forced Merla back into an upright position. The Gordon woman grinned as they got further into downtown Gotham. "Merla, I think you and I are going to get along just fine."

* * *

When the blue Subaru finally reached its destination Merla felt her stomach flop a little. They had managed to reach the D.A.'s office at five minutes to 9. Barbara was certainly a bit more of an aggressive drive than she was used to, but still remained grateful. In fact, her personality was a bit aggressive, but not in a rude or insulting way. When Merla had taken out her cell phone and started to ask for her number, Barbara all but snatched the phone away and programmed it in herself.

"Just call me when you get out. I can take you down to the doctor's office and then over to MCU." The Gordon woman said while punching in her cell phone number.

It all left Merla a bit stunned, but she thanked Barbara once more and exited the care quickly. Now she was walking the busy halls of the District Attorney's Office following a clerk's directions. Reading the plates off the office doors carefully, Merla searched for Rachel Dawes' name. It took a while but she managed to locate the room she was looking for. She knocked clearly on the door.

"Come in."

Opening the door revealed a messy space. A desk was covered in files and law books with a small plaque reading the same name on the door. Seated at the clerical disarray was a woman that managed to combine her natural beauty with her businesslike disposition. Only Merla's by perhaps several years she still held a wised, sophisticated presence. Her brown hair swept across her forehead a bit and was tied back in a very professional style. Stormy blue-gray eyes stood out and gauged Merla, but she still had an easy smile on her lips. She also looked a little stressed out at the moment worrying over an open file on her desk.

'_Well, good to know the GPD aren't the only ones swamped with red tape,'_ Merla mused as the assistant district attorney looked up.

"You must be Merla Reinard." She stood and held out her hand. Merla accepted it the two shook hands briefly. "Assistant District Attorney Rachel Dawes, but I'm sure you knew that already."

Merla wasn't sure how to answer that as Ms. Dawes motioned to a chair across from her desk. "Yes. Sorry I'm late. Had a few… car problems."

Dawes glanced at the clock and raised her eyebrow slightly. It was only 9:03. "No, you're not late." She waved her hand faintly before sitting down once more. "Actually I need to sign a few more things before we get started. Nothing like good old bureaucratic paperwork to start the day off." Dawes picked up her pen and continued looking over the file.

"Mmm." Was all Merla could supply.

Dawes flipped through her file scribbling hastily now and again. This left a very bored criminalist to sit uncomfortably. Merla shifted in her seat as a tickling sensation formed at the back of her throat. Chest still sore from coughing through the night, Merla currently tried to push her illness to the back of her mind. She tried to clear her throat and ended up coughing heavily.

This only served to have a very worried looking Dawes glance up from the file. The younger woman dug into her pocket as her cheeks reddened (from forceful coughing and embarrassment,) thoroughly flustered by the situation. Merla drew out a cloth handkerchief to politely cover her mouth, but only further humiliate herself by her elbow knocking over a picture frame that had sat on the desk.

"S-sorry." She stammered as her cheeks faded from red to a pinker shade.

Merla bent in her seat to retire the picture frame as Dawes spoke up. "Oh, ah, that-that's fine. Not a problem." The assistant district attorney rocked a bit in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable.

The picture inside the frame was of two children of roughly the same age. They both had dark hair and wide grins. Merla couldn't quite place the location, but it appeared somewhere far less urban than Gotham City. The nagging urge to ask about the photograph tugged at the back of Merla's mind, but she ignored it. There was enough of her own past she didn't need to be reminded of. Based on Dawes' reaction, it was doubtful that she would divulge into the identity of the two children. The frame was quickly replaced on the desk.

"Sorry again." Merla cleared her throat a bit more forcefully this time. "A bit under the weather." Dawes still seemed a bit unsettled, so the younger woman added, "I should be fine for the court date."

Dawes made eye contact with Merla once again. "Sorry to hear you're not feeling well. I ah, I think I'm about wrapped up here," she motioned to the file she had been working on and closed it. "Anyway, this shouldn't take long. You've testified before, am I correct?"

Merla nodded. "Yes. That's right."

"Good." Dawes moved the file to a stack on the side. Withdrawing another folder that sat in its lonesome, she then opened the newer file. The papers inside were scrutinized under her piercing glare. "That should shave off some time today."

"I'm sorry for asking, but when is the Rakov case set for trial exactly?"

"Oh, I thought I told you." Dawes looked up from her file. Merla felt her cheeks burn slightly in embarrassment. "Sorry, it's been hectic around here. Next Tuesday at 11 am."

The younger woman thought for a moment. She still didn't know when her parents were coming to Gotham, but they would understand. They knew her job had important commitments that could spring up unexpectedly. "That's fine. If something comes up I'll work around the court dates."

The A.D.A nodded and relaxed slightly. "Perfect. Now," she straightened up and turned back to the file. "It says in your report you found the weapon in a… storm drain?"

Merla felt herself slip into work mode as well. Her back would straighten, just as Dawes did, and her mind felt less cluttered. "Yes. That's right."

"Why did you look there?"

"The victim had been found in an alley not far from there. It's typical for the suspect to dispose of the weapon so it wouldn't trace back to them. There should be photos of the blood drops we found. That led us to the storm drain. We recovered the blade, still bloodied, there."

Dawes leafed through the file. She then looked up to the criminalist with raised eyebrows. "You actually dug through garbage in a storm drain?"

Merla grimaced slightly. "Sadly, yes. Part of the job."

"You certainly are dedicated." Dawes went back to the file again. "Now, the blood on the blade matched the victim, correct?"

"Yes. The wounds on the victim also matched the blade as well."

"And that's where you found Rakov's fingerprints?"

"There was a latent print on the end of the knife handle. That matched with the print we had on file for Mr. Rakov."

"And that's how you were able to attain a search warrant for his apartment."

Merla nodded. "Yes." She thought it might not be best to mention that MCU was aware of Rakov's involvement with the Russian mob and wanted to find what else they had been up to. "To better ascertain motive we searched his apartment. That's where we found a supply of narcotics. The suspect's prints were on the packages."

Dawes leaned back and flicked a pen between her fingers. "That looks like everything. Should I warn you about the defense attorney's questions?"

"I think it should be fine. Good evidence is hard to debunk through pestering questions."

'_No matter how many pointless questions they ask.' _Merla thought as she tried not to roll her eyes.

The other woman chuckled a bit. "Tell me about it. It's unbelievable what these mob lawyers come up with." Dawes then leaned back in her chair. "Alright, I guess that's everything. I'll see you at the Federal Courthouse, next Tuesday before 11."

Merla stood and shook Dawes' hand once more. "It was nice meeting you Ms. Dawes. See you in a week."

"Nice meeting you too Ms. Reinard." She smiled warmly, but it was a slightly worn smile.

* * *

**A/N:** _We certainly went over alot in this chapter, didn't we? And yet, you still don't know everything!!! And (finally) some real Bat-action! I'm worried that it might require the rating boosting up to M. I hope the action scene plays out well, since I can picture it well but have a hard time putting it on paper sometimes. And yes, Lester's scene was very, very, VERY inspired by the Flass scene in Batman Begins. It was just too cool to pass up. Sorry to have to put violence in the story, but it **is** a crime story. Crime can be very violent. _

_Plus, Barbara and Rachel make their appearances. Yes, I wanted Barbara to show up (not the Barbara that becomes Batgirl mind you, that's her and Jim's daughter) and have plans for her. Basically I picture her being a strong, slightly bossy woman as a counter part to Jim Gordon's determination and leadership abilities. As a police officer's wife she worries and has a large heart, is very protective of her family, and willing to dish out tough love when needed (I mean, she slapped Jim after she thought he was dead!!) _

_Thanks go out to haha21 for contrustive critisim and pointing out my errors. I feel so shamed for not putting up chapters that aren't the best I can do. And Ruby, for reading and enjoying my work while she writes her own awesomeness._

_Oh! And please review! Anything you want to say, point out, correct, or whatever feel free. I'm always glad to hear feedback. And don't forget The Dark Knight returns to U.S. theaters on January 23! No word as of yet for the IMAX version. If you didn't see it in IMAX, I recommend it. HIGHLY. It might get a little loud (i.e. explosions) but there were scenes shot in IMAX that will blow you away. If you didn't see it in theaters, well, why the heck are you reading this story anyway??_


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